It’s my birthday-eve, and I’m pulling in a quote from Rebecca.
I should say straight away that I’m not 36, but I’m giving the age ‘about 36’ a long catchment area here; say from the age of 35 up until…60? Or older, if you feel like it.
The young narrator of Rebecca describes herself as shy, insecure, nondescript. She doesn’t think she’s memorable, and she doesn’t even get a name. She envies women who are at ease with themselves. Until recently, she’s the character I would have identified with.
Of course, I don’t live my life in black satin and pearls, but it’s a thought worth bearing in mind; we may have dark circles under our eyes, and hair we didn’t have time to brush and our children could have wiped buttery honey toast crumbs down our clothes; even so, there may be people who see us in a different light; not as old but as women who know what we’re doing and are comfortable with who we are; and they may even be a tiny bit in awe.