There were signs that something momentous was taking place, but initially, I failed to see the pattern.
First, beginning a few years ago, salespeople in trendy boutiques no longer bothered with me.
Then I began to require makeup, especially a tinted moisturizer, to get that lovely no-makeup glow.
This anthem from my high school days was now being used to market cleaning supplies!
Even worse, I owned a Swiffer and felt strongly enough about it to have recommended it to friends.
I began to feel vaguely uneasy, but the reason hadn’t yet gelled.
And yet I didn’t feel like me.
Then one day, shortly after my 40th birthday, all became clear.
He thanked me and returned to his book.
The sexy, stubbly guy who’d asked me for the time simply wanted to know the time!
He wanted information, not sex.
Who the hell did I think I was, you may wonder?
Well, exactly who I had always been: a hot chick, damn it!
I had never been a supermodel, but my general appeal was time-tested.
But in that instant, I got it.
Boy, did I ever get it.
I didn’t feel like me anymore because I wasn’t me anymore.
So the question was, Who or what was I now?
I had quietly moved into a different category of human being: the not-young woman.
Of course, as I “matured,” so did everyone else I knew.
One time on the train (again on the train!
He looked the same: short, with thick retro-nerd glasses and a motorcycle jacket.
When I realized Mike wasn’t Mike, I saw a flash of myself through his eyes.
It turns out, he was right.
(It’s nice being a cool mom, but time is still passing.)
Perhaps that’s when we start to feel the rumblings of a shift.
The milestones I reached, however, were only part of my initiation into Formerly territory.
The major tip-off for me was when I began to not feel like the person I once was.
My self-image as a young, relevant, in-the-mix woman started to wobble, affecting the way I behaved.
It was a self-reinforcing cycle.
My looks, the most visible part of this whole process, weren’t radically changed.
The people who saw me every day didn’t notice anything.
And it bothered me that it bothered me.
Was I really so vain that I cared about what complete strangers thought?
Why, yesyes, I did!
Which was yet another blow to my self-definition.
I certainly cared and liked to look good, but I didn’t get nuts about it.
The larger life changesgoing off to college, getting married, becoming a parenthave been scrutinized to death.
There are legions of Formerlies, and we’re an amazing constituency.
It’s a tremendous time of life, the weird limbo between young and old notwithstanding.
And so I’ve come to terms with leaving behind the hot girl I was.
Conveniently, that comes with age.
So do lots of other good things: wisdom, financial security and a lot of life experience.
For that, I’m not just Formerly Hot: I’m Currently Happy.
Look for Stephanie Dolgoff’s funny insights on theHealthy Self blogat Self.com.
