Prozac Nation's Elizabeth Wurtzel confronts her fear of aging and losing her good looks
I was a prom queen, but now I'm over 40 and I'm a horrible ugly hag and my One True Chance At Happiness threw a half-full bottle of liquor at my head and told me I'd never really be happy without him so it's like some kind of evil fairy godmother has cursed me to be unhappy because I feel guilty about cheating on him.
(Seriously, though, if society tells you the only reason you could possibly be worth anything is if you can win beauty contests, and you proceed to do so, then it must be awful to believe that once you find that one wrinkle or that sole grey hair the only option is a crash-and-burn. See this article at Pandagon for a fairly sympathetic reaction to this column.)
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