This thread reminds me of that old New Yorker cartoon in which a map of the world is foreshortened behind a massive looming Manhattan - everything else tiny and compressed in the background.
When I was young the world stretching up to the age of 40 looked vast and plentiful - everything after it was foreshortened into one grey lump of oldness, in which I would be a different person, less beautiful, loveable, clever and funny, with nothing much to look forward to except for facial hair and eventually death.
Now I'm 50, it's like going over the mountaintop and seeing how much there is on the other side. I have a mother and a grandmother who both still work for a living (the women work for ever in my family; the men often fail to start). I have young children and a fascinating job. There's a LOT I like about being middle-aged (not least the loss of self-consciousness, and the 'loss' of intrusive and unwanted sexual attention). I would give away the arthritis in a heartbeat, but generally this time of life has lots to recommend it. i feel calmer, more confident, and more capable than ever before in my life.
So the loss of social and professional status is galling, to see the least. I always get great performance reports at work, but I suspect I won't be promoted much further, if any further. EVery day I see the difference between how older women and older men are treated at work - the gap is very much wider than between younger women and younger men. Turning 50 was an eye-opener: I was determined to role model how I expected other people to treat it - I didn't hide it, or joke about it, or show any distress about it. But everyone else did - I overheard a whispered debate among my colleagues about whether it would be appropriate to get a card with '50' on it, or whether I'd be upset.
This thread has been very interesting, and I'm grateful to Justine for responding to it. I hope we can go on exploring what it means to become an older woman; I think we could all benefit from it.