old broads

Middle Age. Like death and skintags, it comes to us all.

But, trust me…delivered along with the gunt, the stray grey pubes, the chin hairs, the crepey face, and The Florida Evans Neck, there are fabulous advantages to being a Woman of a Certain Age.

When your waist gets a little thick (okay, a LOT thick), your elbows get a little baggy, and your titties no longer sit high and tight like they once did when you were 22, and all light beyond a single struck match can be considered “harsh”, and it becomes glaringly apparent that pool boys, indie musicians, cute grocery clerks at Trader Joe’s, and guys who live in your building are NO LONGER jockeying for position to fuck you on their futons, it takes your focus off the external and puts it squarely back onto your soul, your self, your dreams, and your powerful presence here in this place.

It frees you from the distractions and constraints brought about by constantly fretting over what others might think of you.

Your DGAF Factor explodes off the charts.

You squat, belly laughing, and take a righteous metaphorical dump on your bathroom scale as a social statement against the idiotic, insulting, insidious, impossible beauty standards imposed on women and their bodies in our culture.

You refuse to keep the secrets and carry the shame for even ONE MOMENT LONGER. It is a time for TRUTH…and as a result of this truth, you suddenly realize the full arc of BEING — and you, at long last, BECOME.

This newfound wisdom illuminates you from within, drawing others to your light, asking how they, too, might radiate the light that exists inside them, as well. TELL THEM WHAT YOU KNOW.

This new Age of Enlightenment of Age draws back the veil of youthful illusion and reveals to you the reality of just how fucking awesome and powerful you truly are.



But here’s the best, most hilarious, most unbelievable part:

This wisdom and awareness makes you bold, audacious, focused, fierce, free, and fearless — which, oh, so ironically…FAT, OLD BROAD or NOT…makes people want to fuck you.


Shantih. Shantih. Shantih.

And, amen.



About muffybolding

Muffy Bolding is a mother/writer/actor/knitter/feminist/withered debutante who likes the smell of asparagus pee, and remains obsessed with the bathroom hygiene of her three children -- despite the fact that they are 23, 19, and 16. She is blissfully married to a cute Jewish boy who looks like Willie Wonka, but remains tragically in love with the dead poet, Ted Hughes. She has the mouth of a Teamster, and her patron saint is Rocco (pestilence relief.) Ms. Bolding lives in Southern California, where she enjoys typing words, making movies, and plucking the rings from the fingers of the dead. She was the co-creator and Editor-in-Chief of the award winning satire zine, Fresno Lampoon, and in between writing screenplays, carnival barking, and savagely threatening her trio of darling larvae with a wooden spoon, she currently publishes the zine, "Withered Debutante." More of her work can also be found in the anthology, "Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts", the compilation zine, "Mamaphiles III: Coming Home", as well as in The Cortland Review and hipmama.com. She is currently writing and producing for film and television, and working on a book of essays entitled, "Inside A Chinese Dragon." She has slept around, but not nearly as much as she would have liked.
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