My Body. What Happened?

The Buband
July 17, 2017
Trust Yourself and Your Life Will Fall Into Place
August 1, 2017

My Body. What Happened?

I am pretty much OK with the way I look.  Of course, I could always look better, and I wish I weighed less, but what else is new?  There are things, however, that no one tells you about aging and what it does to the body.  Just as no woman tells you what it will feel like to push a human out of your vagina, no woman goes to the dark side to let you know the horror of what lies ahead when you look into the mirror during the last 30 or so years of your life.  Well, get ready, because it is not pretty.  Take notes if you dare.

The Arms Race

I work out pretty regularly so I feel like I should see at least a little muscle in my arms.  But, no matter how hard I work or how much I lift, when I raise my arms, let’s say to dance,  there is a force so powerful that it begins a ripple at the shoulders and continues down to my elbows. It is unstoppable. It isn’t just skin: it is skin then kind of a buffer layer, then what I can only refer to as blubber.  You could power a lantern for a week with my upper arm “material”.  I don’t remember when it happened.  I believe that if I had my arms liposuctioned they would look similar to my dog from behind after being neutered.  Need I say more?

Under my arms, my armpits actually, I have developed what I lovingly refer to as gobblers.  They resemble the thing that hangs off of a turkey’s beak.  I spoke to a plastic surgeon about them a couple of years ago, and he lovingly referred to them as pit-tits.  What girl doesn’t want to hear that whispered in her ear?  Could anything sound more lovely? More charming?  He said that it was just breast tissue.  Breast tissue?  I honestly don’t need more thank you.  I don’t need backup breast tissue. They aren’t quite big enough to tuck into my bra.  I might be able to tape them down like a Kardashian getting into a low cut gown.  The combination of my pit-tits and my swinging upper arms is why I do not wear sleeveless tops unless I am trying to frighten someone,  for example, to keep the middle seat clear in my row on a flight.



The final piece to this Little Body of Horrors has to do with my feet.  I don’t know about you but, I remember seeing my Grannie’s feet when I was young.  The thick, discolored nails and dry skin were rough and scratchy.  She had to go to the doctor to have her nails cut because they had thickened up with age.  Let me repeat that;  she had to go to the doctor to have her toenails clipped.  And my Mom had worn high heels for so long that she had to go to the doctor just to have the calluses shaved off the bottom of the balls of her feet.  Again, medical intervention for foot maintenance.  So let’s talk about mine.  My feet are so dry sometimes that they catch when I drag them across the sheets on my bed at night.  The skin is sharp, even though I get regular pedicures.  The woman who gives me those pedicures can barely cut my toenails because they are so hard and thick.  I don’t know what color they are because I refuse to look down until there is polish on them again and the earth returns to its axis.  When I leave, they are all shiny and moist, and in just a few hours they are back to their old gross, sharp selves.

So, is there any good news?  Is there any way to be happy when the body rebels?  Absolutely.  Just be happy.  Do what you can or what you want with your looks then forget them.  You are not going to look thirty again, ever.  Think about what your life looked like in your thirties: most likely it was full of babies and toddlers and laundry and cooking and cleaning and just plain working non-stop everyday.  It is exhausting to think about, right?  Well, we deserved to look good then.  And now, we deserve to have fun.  To live a life that is enjoyable and full, and to be at peace with our looks.


  1. Yolanda says:

    Thank you for sharing!

  2. Eloise ( says:

    Oh Paula, how depressingly accurate. I could add stuff relating to stomach, legs and neck but, try as we might, the ravages of age creep up unbidden. The air-brushing of celebrities just make us even more despondent despite the fact that we KNOW they’re air-brushed! You are so right though – we’re never going to look thirty again (heavens, even fifty again wouldn’t be such a bad prospect) but there is no alternative other than to accept, do our best to look as good as we can manage and be happy that we are here to enjoy life as much as personal circumstance allows.
    Strangely, although I too would like to look better, I am, in fact, more at peace with my face and body than I ever was in my forties. Take care. X

    • Paula Paula says:

      I think that being “at peace” is a great way to put it. Because, if you are at peace, you can let go of the negative thoughts and just tuck it all in!


      • Eloise ( says:

        Thank goodness for nice clothes. Cover up and smile!

        • Paula Paula says:

          Yep, you can cover up a lot with clothes, but if I were to cover up everything that looks bad on me I would be walking around looking like a beekeeper! Thank you for your comments and thank you for reading.

      • Paula Paula says:

        My kids used to learn stop, drop and roll if their clothes were to catch on fire. For me it is more like tuck, fold and hope!

  3. Terry says:

    Thank goodness for sleeves, pants and closed-toe shoes! We can cover up unsightly body parts. However, no one told me about my hands hurting or losing my hair. I don’t think my mother had these problems at all.

    I just found your blog at My Side of 50 on FB. You are refreshing!

    • Paula Paula says:

      Thank you for finding me, Terry. And, what about your knees? Mine are kind of bulbous, for lack of a better term. Bulbous knees: no one tells you about that one do they. And have you ever looked at your elbows and thought, “Oh my gosh, they look almost dirty they are so gray! Couldn’t someone have told me?”
      I hope you will continue to read Starting Over at Sixty.

  4. Patti says:

    I love this post! It describes exactly how I feel. I have to cut myself some slack though. My body has been through a lickin but has kept on tickin’!

    • Paula Paula says:

      On my gosh Patti, last night those cry heels were driving me crazy in bed! YOu are right, our bodies have been through a lot if we have been around for a while. Thank you for reading and I hope you will continue to follow Starting Over at Sixty.

  5. Suzy C says:

    Your post is the perfect mix of humour and quiet amazement at what has suddenly crept up on us, when we weren’t paying attention! I’m in my late fifties and consider myself lucky to have not experienced too much of this deterioration until now….where did those baggy wrinkled knees come from, totally spoiling the look of my still quite slim legs? the wrinkles around the elbows? ha ha, overnight it would seem. We are lucky though to have so much exciting stuff going on in this last third of our lives, so yes, let’s embrace it (even if it does feel a bit, um ‘squishy’). I’m off to workout now, ain’t never gonna give that up!

    • Paula Paula says:

      Yes, my elbows look like they belong on an elephant! And my knees seem to have added some parts: they are getting lumpier! So glad you like the blog and I hope you will keep reading and tell your friends!

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