I know, I know—I can almost feel the ire rising among the passionate feminists (and yes, I consider myself one, too). I can hear the frustrated sighs and the whispered critiques about being conditioned by a deeply ingrained, sexist culture. I’m not suggesting that it’s acceptable, politically correct, or even logical. I’m simply expressing that I miss those catcalls.
When you’re young, they come at you from every direction, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and offended. I often felt exposed and vulnerable, sometimes wishing I could just fade into the background. All that attention can be exhausting, especially when you’re 27 and have spent over a decade enduring the relentless hooting and hollering. So, I understand where you’re coming from, ladies.
Yet, over time, those catcalls fade from a constant barrage to a mere trickle. It happens so gradually that you hardly notice it at first. You might convince yourself that you’ve just grown immune to them, even patting yourself on the back for rising above it all. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: you’re not hearing them anymore; they’ve simply stopped. And that realization can sting.
Now, don’t misunderstand me. I still take care of myself and can pull off a decent look. I steer clear of mom jeans and stained sweats. Occasionally, I’ll get a compliment from a gentleman—perhaps a senior citizen with trifocals rushing to a doctor’s appointment—but it still feels nice. Okay, “nice” might be an understatement. I can’t help but feel a rush of excitement from even the smallest compliment. It can lift my spirits for days.
As we age, the reduced volume of attention from men can mark a significant shift in our lives. Some women opt for paths that aren’t exactly empowering, wearing plunging necklines or overly tight outfits, engaging in attention-seeking behavior even before happy hour. It’s easy to chuckle at those choices when you’re young, but it’s also somewhat sad.
The alternative path, while less cringe-worthy, has its own set of challenges. It’s the “I’m a wife/mom, and I need to act like it” route. It involves meeting friends at a casual bar for drinks while trying to look stylish, all while being mindful that you need to get home to prepare for the next day. Sure, it appears mature and responsible, allowing you to hold your head high, but there’s no adrenaline rush from being admired by the opposite sex.
I hate to admit it, but those catcalls once validated me, affirming my attractiveness. And, let’s be honest, isn’t that what many of us desire? Most of us are trying to leverage our appeal to find a partner and settle into a family life. Now that I’ve achieved that, you might think I should feel content and revel in it more.
And I do, for the most part. I love my life, my husband, and our children. I’ve had a wonderful run, and I’m (mostly) happy to pass the torch to the younger generation. But sometimes, I can’t help but miss the thrill of those catcalls.
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In summary, as we move through the stages of life, the attention we once received may dwindle, leading to mixed feelings about our attractiveness and validation. While transitioning into more mature roles can be fulfilling, it’s natural to occasionally miss the excitement of being admired.