On ageism and my smiley guy

So one day last May, two years plus since fuck ca took him, I had made a decision to not stare at the ground and cry on my walk to work anymore. A lot of time spent crying on the way to work was not cutting it anymore and I needed, no - I wanted - a change. I wanted to be part of the world again but just could not make my way out of the plastic bag I periodically envisioned over my head. The grief therapy- group and private-, love/ hate on/ off again relationships with antidepressants and talk till you drop your friend's patience was not cutting it (at least as far as a change in the behavior). Because hey wanting something and actually doing something to get there are two different things right? So after contemplating it for a few months it was time and the month of May with spring in the air was as good a time as any. Be in the world Sussey, look up, look people in the eye again and smile at them. I would make my mark on the world instead of hiding in it. Advertise that I am alive again.

So forward I go with this attempt at a change in my behavior in the hopes to then perhaps change my mood (my own private personal trial of CBT). I remember the decision and I remember the weeks of failure. To be seen and to get a smile in return was just not happening (what the fuck people this is Halifax not Edmonton). I was really looking at people, staring them in the eye and smiling. Seeing them come toward me on the sidewalk, catching a glance at a distance, hello over here, see me, staying with it as we get closer, broadening my smile, crinkling the eyes with it and..... shit you walk on by me and look down?  WTF? Was my smile too warm? Too welcoming? Too in your face? Are you grieving too? Do you just not see the invisible middle aged women? I must admit as the days mounted up without a return nod of acknowledgement, let alone a smile, I was believing the latter. And getting more and more angry and more and more determined. You motherfuckers you're not gonna get me down. You're gonna see I too am part of this world! I have a right to be here, to be happy, to smile,....damn you frowning ignoring eye averting fuckers to hell. I HAVE A RIGHT TO LIVE, TO LIVE IN THIS WORLD AND FUCK YOU I AM NOT INVISIBLE, I AM HERE. Be warned don't get me going, I am Irish, I am a redhead.

Then I noticed something. I started to believe it and feel empowered by it. This reverse psychology was starting to work on me. And I was smiling. Not because I was saying fuck off to ageism or out of spite to the world I thought I didn't want a part of or to one up the non-smile-backers. But I was smiling because I wanted to and because it felt so much better than watching those sorry guilt-laden tears fall to the sidewalk. Because it did make me part of the world again. Imagine that....CBT worked......   And then down the sidewalk comes my smiley guy.

In my head I did my ok here comes someone, oh he has a beautiful stark red turban on, wow look how meticulously it's wrapped how its shape is perfect, he carries it so well especially for the young man he is. I wonder will he? I'm staring I don't care I hope it doesn't offend in his culture, oh he won't look betcha 10 bucks, he might think it's disrespectful closer, closer, he walks fast, hold your smile hold your gaze sussey just do it, closer and then ......magic. Another human reciprocated. This beautiful young man looks at me directly in my eyes and wowzers omg  omg  omg that is enough. But then to add pudding to the pie and reward me for weeks of trying, when it finally didn't matter anymore he smiles back at me and I am blessed with the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. (I have analyzed this many times afterward as I've been repeatedly rewarded and yes I am not making it up or just attributing the beauty of his smile to it being my first reciprocated, it remains the most beautiful -bar none). Beautiful man, I don't know your name, we see each other about twice every week on average, if I leave on the 7:10am ferry I will catch you. I have gone from a coy shy glance and brief look to the full on ain't letting your beauty go here it is when you look up-gaze. You have gone from pretending you don't see me until the last minute to waving at me from across the street but you never fail to smile, ever. We have gone from only smiles to saying hello to saying good morning. One time I saw you unexpectedly after work instead of before and giggled like a school girl with glee, foolish yes but I could not help myself. Smiley guy's smile gets me every time and lights up my day. I promise myself everyday, if I see him I am stopping him, I am telling him my name and how important his smile is and why. I want to capture it, I bring my camera in case I am brave enough. I promise I promise. And I walk by, excusing my failure with the likes of oh he was with another friend or he was walking too fast or others are on the sidewalk and will overhear me. And I kick myself all the rest of the way to work, but when I pass him I always look back. As I become a more assured more visible women, I swear I will do it, maybe one day when I look back he will too and I will run back and tell him. One day this blog will have another story to finish this story, it will have his picture, his reaction. Stay tuned.
 
So I was having this conversation with a friend the other day about women my age and how A) we are invisible B) about the May/December relationships and how when it's reversed (older women younger men) there is a stigma. And we chatted about smiley guy, who I guesstimate is probably mid thirties. I do not think of him in "that way" although  was challenged on this. No that is not it. Smiley guy lights up my day in the most innocent of ways. But later I admit I examined the challenge closer. Perhaps societal stigma and how good girls behave (demure, not assertive, especially not aggressive or going after what they want) has kept other encounters "innocent" and me unable even to entertain the thought of a younger man in my life "that way" (and no I ain't talking about thirty somethings) but just maybe forty somethings? Time and circumstances will tell, as for those 40 somethings actually interested in a 54 year old well that is a rant for another time. For now I say even to entertain the thought, to ponder my friends challenge, is a "fuck you" to ageism and I like that.