Who is Future Crone?

it's definitely me, but it could also be you

You may have seen the image. It’s often in museums of illusions and it makes the rounds online. A picture of two things, at the same time and not at the same time. Take a look in case you haven’t seen it before, or, it’s been a while.

Did you find them?

An old woman and a young girl. Crone and maiden. Who did you find first? Psychologists say that answer may reveal the age of the viewer. I will admit to finding the old woman first, this time anyway, and that makes sense to me, age 48, in the throes of perimenopause and aging. Crone is bearing down on me fast.

But I’m okay with that. Maybe not with the physical and aesthetic deterioration, but I’m down with the wisdom aspect and caring a whole lot less about what other people think about me. The bad assery of crone is appealing.

To be clear, I’m not wearing tunics - yet - but I am choosing comfy pants over sausage casing jeans, and I have moments of tenderness for my laugh lines.

But let’s go back to the famous optical illusion, which plays with our brain's perception of depth, size, and distance. Optical illusions work by exploiting the brain's tendency to fill in gaps and complete patterns, leading to interpretations of the information being received.

This one first appeared on an 1888 German postcard and was later adapted by British cartoonist William Ely Hill, who published it in a humor magazine in 1915 with the title "My Wife and My Mother-in-Law." Which is a little icky, though maybe worse if he titled it, “My Wife and Mother.”

Then in 1930 it was mentioned in a psychology journal by the unfortunately named professor, Edward Boring, and here it is, in 2023, still making the rounds.

I’d say it’s definitely crone-aged at this point.

It seemed the appropriate image and theme for this Substack, which I’ve been starting and stopping for several months.

So what is Future Crone and why should you care?

I suppose Future Crone is my way of shouting into the void, with all the other cool kid Substackers (you know who you are!) but also a way to connect and communicate with my fellow croneys, who I define as anyone who’s lived long enough to know grief and joy are bound together tighter than my kid’s shoelaces the other day (I had to cut them apart) and no one gets through this life unscathed.

I’m a big fan of finding the dark edge of humor even - or perhaps especially in - the darkest of moments, and sharing them with like-minded friends. As a single mom parenting two not-very-easy-but-also-amazing-kids single-handedly, I often laugh - and cry - in the face of lunacy and peril, but I find it helps to share my story and listen to others.

In some ways, this seems like the absolute worst time to start a newsletter. I mean, who cares what I think when the world is burning down.

But the truth is, the world is always burning in one way or another. So we might as well keep each other company during the chaos and uncertainty, and maybe our stories will dampen the flames leaping up in our own lives, and if not, we can always make s’mores.

Maybe less creepy ones.