How the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders Forced Me to Reckon with Middle Age Losses

I was once a cute cheerleader, and now I’m 40.

When I walked into biology class wearing my cheer uniform for the first time, heads turned. It was the first game day of the year, and before that, I had been just a regular 10th grader, no more or less noticed than anyone else. But the purple and gold vest and pleated skirt seemed to cast a spotlight on me. I took my seat, and the stoic, cute boy in front of me turned around. “I didn’t know you were a cheerleader,” he said, suddenly friendly. 

I was never athletic––cheer was my first experience with team sports. I relished the camaraderie, the matching uniforms, and the sense of satisfaction when we nailed a basket toss. But what has stayed with me about my time as a cheerleader, nearly 25 years later, is the way it felt to wear that uniform. To be looked at and admired, whether it was in biology class, in the mall food court after school, or in front of the crowded stands at a football game. I didn’t know it then, but I was experiencing the power that came with being a cheerleader in American culture. 

When I sat down to watch America’s Sweethearts, the Netflix docuseries about the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, I assumed it would be a bit of a hate-watch, where I would low-key judge the cheerleaders and the Big Texas Beauty Complex of it all. Instead, after only one episode, I was entranced. I found myself thinking, I wish I could do that. If someone had showed up in my living room with a magical time machine and said, “This can take you back to your 20s, and you will get to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader,” I would leap in, no questions asked. 

I’m a person who prides herself on being low maintenance. I wear my curly hair in a wash and go style; my makeup routine requires five products and takes five minutes. All because I can’t stand the idea of spending more time on my appearance––time I could spend reading, watching tv, exercising, anything but grooming myself. So why would I want to be a cheerleader who seems to spend an equal amount of time on her hair as she does on perfecting her jump split? 

But America’s Sweethearts reminded me of how good it feels to be looked at, to be admired. I had my first taste of that as a 15-year-old cheerleader, and it continued later, when I wasn’t on cheer anymore but my friends and I still spent Friday nights making ourselves cute for football games. To a soundtrack of Usher and No Doubt, we’d crimp our hair, layer on mascara, and cut our spirit shirts into crop tops to pair with our low-rise jeans. We would arrive at the game knowing we were cute, assuming people would look at us. The feeling was delicious and fizzy, like when champagne goes to your head. 

I wasn’t a head turner, like my roommate in college who had long blond hair and big blue eyes.¹ After a semester I got used to men stopping in their tracks to stare at her while I faded into the background. But I had shiny hair, straight teeth, and big eyes with lashes that didn’t need mascara. Zadie Smith once said that whether your beauty was large or small, it’s still something to reckon with once you start to lose it. 

And I am undeniably starting to lose it. Since I turned 40 last summer, I’ve felt like I’m at the top of a roller coaster, about to fly through midlife and plunge into my crone era. There’s no going back to the beauty of my youth, and the radiant cheerleaders of America’s Sweethearts highlighted that for me in a bittersweet way. Now, even if I somehow learned to do my makeup from TikTok and I stayed fit and dressed to accentuate my best features, I wouldn’t have that glow of youth.

So much of your 40s feels like deciding what kind of person you’re going to be for the second half of life. We look around for role models and for cautionary tales. My sister once shared her own theory about this crossroads: Once a woman turns 40, she said, “you either have to go balls to the wall” with anti-aging measures like botox and surgery, or you let yourself go. The older women in America’s Sweethearts—the director, Kelli, and the choreographer, Judy––dress impeccably and somehow know how to do their makeup in a way that makes their faces look airbrushed. Watching them, I found myself in awe. Could I be one of those women? Let’s be honest––no. I was born and raised in California, and casual minimalism is in my DNA.

On the other side of the fence, there’s the post-menopausal narrator of Catherine Newman’s recent novel Sandwich, who says she could sit on the beach naked and no one would notice, and she doesn’t care. She has let go of possessing beauty as a currency in our culture. Yet that kind of letting go is unimaginable to me, terrifying like a free fall. 

In the final episode of America’s Sweethearts, there are glimmers of hope for the aged beauties of the world. The DCC alumni are invited back to perform in a half-time show with the current cheerleaders. There is something so hopeful about seeing these women in their 40s, 50s, and 60s putting on their makeup and doing their hair and practicing their dance with silver pom-poms. There is a palpable joy in their togetherness. And they clearly have fun with the performance, even though of course they know that the crowd is mostly watching the current Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, with their tiny white shorts and bouncy skin and bouncier hair. 

As the middle-aged alumni swung their hips and shook their pom-poms, I wondered about the freedom that might come for women who do reckon with the loss of their youthful beauty and decide to let it go. I realized that as I move into my 40s and beyond, I want to be like these older women who marched onto that football field and danced their hearts out—not because they would be looked at but because they could. Because they wanted to.

Articles

The Disenchantment of Halloween by Kathryn Jezer Morton - “Parenting today is very consumed with ‘making magic’—holiday magic, birthday magic, core-memory magic […] And yet, the disenchantment persists—it might even grow. What are we missing? […] I wonder if it’s a projection of parents’ anxiety about our own distraction that causes us to salivate so uncontrollably around the idea of ‘making memories’ with our kids. Attentiveness is a necessary condition of memory-making, and we are all spiraling to varying extents about how we are and are not attentive.”

I Joined the Worst Club with the Best People by Abby Gardner - I loved this essay about becoming a counselor at grief camp. I firmly believe that camp is one of the most magical places on earth.

The Midlife Unraveling by Brene Brown - This essay is fantastic and a little bit scary for someone who feels like I’m at the beginning of my own midlife unraveling!

Books

I Hope This Finds You Well by Natalie Sue - This book is a workplace comedy and out of my usual reading comfort zone but I really liked it! An employee in trouble with HR accidentally gets access to all her coworkers’ emails and DMs. Imagine!!! I really like how this book hilariously portrayed the indignities of office life while also showing how even our most irritating or vapid coworkers have a lot going on outside the cubicle.

Birdie & Harlow by Taylor Wolfe - I listened to this as an audiobook, which I highly recommend because you get the full force of Taylor’s sarcasm and humor. This book was cathartic for me, after recently losing Asher. Taylor also writes a lot about early motherhood in a very honest way!

TV

Emily in Paris, season 4 (Netflix) - After a couple of violent shows (Slow Horses and Bad Monkey) and a disappointing third season of The Bear,² I’m enjoying the empty-headed entertainment of Emily in Paris!

We haven’t had a ton of time to watch TV lately but here’s what I’m excited to watch next: The newest seasons of Only Murders in the Building (Hulu), Shrinking (Apple+), Sex Lives of College Girls (Max), and Somebody, Somewhere (Max).

Podcasts

“Is BookTok Actually About Reading?” (Culture Study podcast) - As someone who has only seen TikTok videos when they’ve reached my Instagram algorithm, this was a fun listen, especially because I’ve long been curious about BookTok! Still don’t think I’m gonna sign up for TikTok though ;)

Wrapping Up

We’ve been watching the World Series this week (go Dodgers!) and doing all the fall fest/trunk or treat/Halloween stuff. This weekend we’re seeing Maggie Rogers (!!!!) at the Forum in LA, and Robert and I even get to spend the night out there…can’t wait! I know election fever is upon us but I’ve kinda hit my saturation point. I’m glad I have a fun weekend to distract me. What have you been up to? Share in the comments or hit reply if you’re reading this as an email. I love hearing from you!

All Good Things,

Joy

1. She also reads this newsletter—hi, Roommate!

2. Like, so disappointing. I liked the Napkins episode and the last episode (I love Olivia Colman!), but that was kinda it. Maybe I wasn’t in the right headspace for it? But mostly I felt like the show’s creators/writers fell in love with themselves/their show and it was boring to me.