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It’s the double whammy that cuts deepest – a mixture of misogyny and a perceived power shift
I know that to the world at large, I am an older person and there are times I am happy to accept a different kind of treatment.
Photograph: Getty Images Growing old is a privilege but it’s a privilege that comes with a cost. I will be 62 later this year but like everyone from probably their mid-40s onwards, it’s a number that makes no rational sense to me. After all, I am the same person I was when I was 23 and 32 and 41. Other people are definitely ageing, but not me.
Until I unexpectedly spot my reflection in a shop window, that is, or have to scroll down, down, down to find the year of my birth when filling out an official sort of form. I went for a swim in a public pool not so long ago and the guy at the desk gave me the discounted rate. Now, I don’t actually qualify for that rate just yet but was happy enough to accept it.
But this is where the cost comes in. The rate came with a “My dear”, which took me aback. This wasn’t the first time I was blatantly and quite unashamedly condescended to. Actually, come to think about it, should that be patronised?
I’m never sure. But either way, I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it as a general rule. Rock on: Kevin O’Sullivan gets a much sought-after tour of Kerry’s Skellig MichaelI should have challenged him on the spot, of course, but he caught me off guard. Happily, I managed to get my act together when a taxi driver took to addressing me as “pet” when I went to pay the fare.
Not once but three times.
“Please don’t call me that,” I requested, shaking my head, whereupon he muttered and mumbled and started foraging about in the glove compartment. Good enough for him. To be honest, it’s the double whammy that drives me crazy. A mixture of misogyny – after all, I’m pretty sure 62-year-old men don’t get these kind of comments – and some kind of perceived power shift.
These strangers, these people I’ve never met before, somehow think they can pat me on the head and I am supposed to be grateful. I am supposed to smile and nod. But I am not grateful and I do not smile and nod. Instead, I become annoyed and irritated.
Very annoyed and very irritated. As you might tell. I know that to the world at large, I am an older person and there are times I am happy to accept a different kind of treatment. Preferably, this different kind of treatment would come with kindness and maybe even mutual respect.
Is that too much to ask? Not so long ago, I boarded a bus and stood in the aisle with my bags. When the bus jolted into movement, I instinctively went to reach for one of those yellow bars to steady myself. But somehow I missed.
Completely. As I sailed towards the floor in that second or two, I knew this was going to involve dealing with people. The thought had even registered clearly in my mind – that those passengers I was sublimely gliding past in that flicker of a moment were going to be engaging with me oh so very soon. Which came to pass.
Having hit the floor, I looked up into a sea of concerned faces and outstretched arms. Seats were offered. Affirmations of not being injured required. In the middle of it all, the bus came to a halt and the driver asked if I was ok.
It was all a little overwhelming. But in the best possible way. There were no “my dears”. There were no “pets”.
Just people looking out for people. Ten minutes later, ensconced in a seat, some passengers from the depths, way, way at the back, made their way to the middle door to disembark. But they leant in beforehand to inquire if I was still okay. They’d clearly witnessed my downfall, my literal downfall, from some distance away and felt obliged to check in.
And I was okay. I was perfectly okay. But it was nice that they asked. I texted some friends from the changing room of the pool after the “My dear” incident.
I could sense the rolled eyes in their responses. That and a kind of resigned shrug of the shoulders. One friend bemoaned the fact that she’d experienced the same or something similar on numerous occasions. It’s probably not good to let things get to you.
On the other hand, throwing in the towel isn’t a particularly attractive option either. I’m not sure what my strategy should be moving forward. Rock on: Kevin O’Sullivan gets a much sought-after tour of Kerry’s Skellig MichaelHolly Cairns repays €8,500 in expenses mistakenly paid by Oireachtas during maternity leaveGP and elderly mother awarded €12,000 over Dundrum clinic receptionist’s ‘disrespectful’ conductThe Irish Times view on cancer outcomes: a good news story
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