Right after my STBX stopped living here after an incident that I would not tolerate, he began looking at me like I was one of Mudd’s women after the Venus drug wore off. It was the most tell-tale change during our attempt at marriage counseling.

I used to appreciate his looking at me like I wasn’t aging. I would hear men saying how they miss how their wives looked years ago and felt I was blessedly immune from those negative comparisons. My STBX is 12 years my senior and I thought so much in love with me that I would always look lovely to him. The look was gone in an instant.

Now no one looks at me and doesn’t see a 57-year-old woman. Is that bad?

Stuff like this really gets you thinking about women and aging in our society. I think it’s, of course, natural for women to look more sexually attractive during child-bearing years than they do the years beyond because animals, humans included, are wired to procreate, and we can’t make a baby after menopause so that’s that.

In the “Mudd’s Women” episode of the original Star Trek TV series, Eve, beginning to look her age, takes a placebo and looks the same as she does when taking the Venus drug, a capsule that makes women look beautiful. When told she took only a blob of gelatin, she doesn’t understand how she can be beautiful without the Venus drug.

There’s only one kind of woman, says Kirk, (or man for that matter, says Harry Mudd). You either believe in yourself or you don’t.

But the problem with the whole thing, other than the fact that everyone speaks English on all these planets, is that Eve’s changed looks are not just beautiful, but young.

Are looking old and attractiveness always at odds? If you get in another relationship at an older age, does your gorgeous mind gradually blur your flabs and wrinkles in someone’s eyes? Do you look young or old when they love you at this age? Are there different types of attractive? Does the experience represented by an aging face attract anything besides a free Senior Drink?

When I was young and going to clubs, it seemed that I would attract guys when I thought my hair looked flat and my outfit looked stupid. When I looked in the mirror before leaving and thought “Not bad!” the night would often be a dud. That really throws a wrench in Kirk’s self-confidence theory. Or maybe it’s knowing that how you look isn’t really that important.

Who knows what looking my age and believing in myself might do at some future star-date. Maybe some lonely miner on Rigel 12 might see my wrinkles with dusty eyes. Or like the fact that I’ve been flying around the galaxy for awhile.

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