Angel number 55. Welcome to irrelevance.
Or, to new beginnings if you're Pamela Anderson. On invisibility, aging, and self acceptance.
Gertrude Stein was once famously quoted as saying “We are always the same age inside” and lately, I’ve been deliberating over whether or not I agree.
To Ms. Stein: I feel what you’re saying, I really do, but I’m just not sure I believe it wholeheartedly anymore. Despite a head full of gray hairs, age spots, and fine lines, it’s true that I don’t fundamentally feel like a different person from when I was 25, but that existential dissonance between my outward and inner self that’s at the root of many ruminations about aging is starting to crack.
And with that, let me just get this out of the way:
It is absolutely WILD to me that I’m turning 55 tomorrow. There are rare days when I see it in the reflection staring back at me, but most days I don’t see an age at all; I just see an abstract, timeless version of myself.
April is my birthday month. I’m not someone who usually likes to celebrate my birthday with much fanfare, but I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this one because it’s a double number birthday. I don’t really believe in numerology, but I’m not a staunch disbeliever either, if that makes sense. That said, double number birthdays are its own special milestones because as humans, we can’t help but be drawn to patterns. Curious about the poetic symmetry of 55, I do a little search:
When you see angel number 55, it is a sign that change is on the horizon. This change is associated with adventure, versatility, curiosity, and facing challenges.1
Well, shit.
What change on the horizon? What challenges?
I read on.
The appearance of angel number 55 is a message from your angels to let go of the old patterns and beliefs that no longer serve you…Instead of resisting change, embrace it with open arms…Use the energy to pursue your passions and dreams. Take calculated risks and step outside of your comfort zone. Trust that the universe is supporting you every step of the way.
Well, okay.
I don’t know if I have angels looking after me, but this sounds less ominous.
Then I read the bottom line.
This article was created using AI technology.
FFS. I shut my computer and shove it aside.
AI generated content notwithstanding,2 everything I’ve read about the number 55 points to it as a symbol of change. My heart sinks in a quiet little dance because 54 was unequivocally a strange and challenging year, so I’m wondering what changes still lie ahead. I’m not really afraid of aging per se, but I can’t say I’m exactly thrilled with it either. I managed to survive perimenopause, only to learn that the weirdness does not end when you’re in full menopause (sorry, ladies).
I barely flinched when I turned 50, but something shifts as you creep into the middle of this decade. It feels similar to the way physical characteristics of aging really begin to reveal itself after age 45. In your 50s, you walk with a little more caution because you fear taking a fall. You have a harder time remembering names. You might even pause mid-sentence mentally searching for a word, but sometimes the words simply do not come. Genetic dispositions begin taking a stubborn hold over all your bloodwork numbers, despite your best efforts, and health concerns start dominating conversations with friends.
I mourn the loss of what was once an incredible metabolism the most. I know I was lucky to eat anything I wanted to no ill effect, but it’s still sobering to accept that I have to be so very careful now. In my effort to identify triggers behind chronic ailments, I simultaneously wage a war against high cholesterol and glucose. My diet has become rigid, restrictive, and somewhat boring. I’ve relinquished freedom for limitations on caffeine, dairy, carbs, meat, and sugar.
I can go two full weeks sticking to a disciplined diet of steel cuts oats every morning and dinners of whole grains, greens, and proteins before the cravings inevitably start to sneak in: a classic New York slice, thin crusted but crisp enough to carry the grease that dribbles down your arm as you pull away at the cheese with your first bite; a bowl of instant ramen noodles with a swirl of egg dropped into a salty, savory broth. My sugar weakness is yogurt-covered pretzels and peanut butter cups. It’s my choice to give in or deprive, but my body knows what it needs better than my willpower or my mind.
At this age, eating has become less about pleasure and more about maintenance. I’m more exhilarated by the lowered numbers in my latest bloodwork than by anything else that’s brought me satisfaction lately.
“The older I get, the less visible I become to others—but the more clearly I see myself.”
— Gloria Steinem
When women tell you they feel invisible, they often describe it as a double-edged sword. When we’ve been conditioned our entire lives that beauty and youth equals social currency, the steep drop off in representation in films, advertising, and fashion can trigger our own internalized ageism. Invisibility isn’t necessarily a problem if you like being left alone, but in the workplace, the shift in how our experience, skills, and our competence is now perceived can feel like erasure. The condescension gets under our skin; we’re constantly underestimated. This is what it feels like to be invisible. I’ve long said that I no longer hide my age because I’m not in the traditional job market anymore, but I’ve played those games of trying to look younger to stay employable for years.
But putting work stuff aside, here’s the thing: what did youth and looks ever give us besides aggressive catcalls and unwanted attention? Was our self worth that dependent on the gaze of others? Is our self worth now tied to our obsession with cheating age? Aren’t we better off embracing our well-earned freedom to not care anymore?
And yet. I’m influenced by ALL the anti-age products. I dye my hair, pile on serums and creams, apply concealer—all of it because I’m not ready to look “old.” It’s a paradox I don’t understand.
“You’re going to hit a crossroads in your fifties, and you go, ‘Am I going to chase youth? Am I going to be miserable? Or am I going to be self-accepting?’
— Pamela Anderson3
Pamela Anderson as a peer role model of aging joyfully and gracefully wasn’t something I ever expected. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d feel any sort of affinity with someone who went through life looking like her when I look like me. And this is my own prejudice speaking as I’m well aware that women are often not the best supporters of other women. Despite whatever lingering image of the 90s Baywatch bombshell that I held, I could not resist my curiosity when she started showing up in photos and events without any makeup. So it was with complete delight that I learned that she is an avid gardener, a writer, an accomplished vegan cook, and lives in one of my favorite places, Vancouver Island, on land that she owns with her parents.
According to Pam, her world opened up when she took the makeup off.
“I spent some time for myself, stripping away this caricature that I created, because I’d started believing that it was true. You have to have self-acceptance, and I honestly believed it was over, that life. It was like a death, in a way. But it was the beginning.”4
I totally bought into that caricature she’s referring to. It made me dismiss her as someone unrelatable, but I hope I can be as comfortable in my natural skin as she is someday. I peruse her Instagram and am dismayed, but not surprised, to read comments from other women who can’t help but insert their own disparaging opinions on the actor’s decision to appear in public and in photoshoots without makeup. They don’t understand why she would want to look her actual age.
If my math is correct, Pamela’s new beginning came at 55. That was the year she took control of her own narrative, but it seems that even she was surprised by her renaissance as she had already accepted that her public celebrity life was over.
At 55, I know what I don’t want, but I don’t exactly know what I want either. I wonder what caricature of myself I’m holding onto that I need to strip away. Maybe adventure and surprise is what awaits on the horizon. Maybe that’s the change that I was reading with some dread. I relax my body and let the possibilities settle into the corners of my thoughts. There could be something to that angel number 55 after all.
A little birthday sale till the end of the month. If you enjoy this newsletter every week, please consider supporting it. A paid subscription helps support my family. As always, thank you for being here.
Related reading
A roundup of links
To read:
Why You’re Always Tired (It’s Not Just Lack of Sleep) (Psychology Today)
Decision fatigue and mental clutter. Our brains have limited capacity, so no wonder we’re always tired.H&M Is Tapping AI Models. Here’s Why It Could Be Problematic (Teen Vogue)
“If fashion removes its people, then it’s genuinely just about consuming.”
This quote, wow.This is what 30 grams of protein actually looks like (Women’s Health)
Women are supposed to eat at least 45 grams of protein daily, but exactly how much protein is that? This visual guide is pretty helpful.International Student Visas Revoked (Inside Higher Ed)
This is an interactive map of all the known visas revoked from more than 200 U.S. colleges and universities. Updated daily, as of April 16, 1200+ students have had their legal status changed, many without known reasons.Japanese Breakfast's Magical Gap Year (Nylon)
Looks like we’ll have to wait a little longer for Michelle Zauner’s followup to her highly successful novel, Crying at H Mart but there’s new music of hers to listen to.Why Is the American Diet So Deadly? (The New Yorker)
Our food is not like other countries'.Why Elite Colleges Aren’t Pushing Back on Trump, and Why Silence Is Dangerous (Mother Jones)
News develops fast, so this is a bit outdated because Harvard is now pushing back and standing up to this administration's unprecedented demands, but this is still a good read. Hopefully, Harvard’s response (and now MIT) will help other institutions feel more emboldened to fight back.What Do You Tell a College Student Graduating Into This America? (NYTimes) Hat tip to
for sharing this article with me. Parenting adults is a whole other world, indeed.
Or as Linda McMahon refers to AI as “A-One.” I will never not find this funny.
Happy birthday Jenna! I really appreciate your and Pamela’s take- loving yourself at every age and stage, it’s the most beautiful thing. I also believe that whatever (or whoever) you lose as a result of being your authentic self is a gift in a way too. It creates space for who and what does stick; for who and what you gain. 🤍
Happy Magical 55! (For me, I felt like 33 was magical and it proved to be so.) I turned 54 this year--so far it's been rough--but if you put the 5 and 4 together that's a 9 so things could turn around. I love how you articulate so beautifully that this time of life is about shedding... both a revealing of what we've made invisible and also about certain losses. Cheers to your new year.