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I'm Turning into a Hag, and I'm Loving It

How Dungeons and Dragons showed me how to be okay with aging.

By Rachael DunnPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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I'm Turning into a Hag, and I'm Loving It
Photo by Philippe Leone on Unsplash

I am not a young woman anymore. There. I said it. I’m starting to get wrinkles around my eyes, I get the odd gray hair every now and then, and my boobs just aren’t the same anymore. And I have a stiff black hair growing out of my chin that returns no matter how diligent I am about plucking it. The fact is, I’m not an old woman, but I’m getting there. Quickly. Whether I like it or not.

And all around me, advertisements and influencers and media tell me that I should be doing everything I can to halt this process. To stop it in its tracks with makeup, intricate Korean facial regimens, expensive creams, botox, and even plastic surgery. It’s like I’m not allowed to get old or show that I’m aging. If I am not young and beautiful and fuckable, I have no value in society. As a woman, I have but one of two choices.

I can do what all the magazines, commercials, and ads are telling me to do and invest a ton of time and money into trying to fix the inevitable.

Or

I can get annoyed with all of society’s pressure and just do what I like.

I’ve made my choice. In short, I’m going to become a hag.

Okay, bear with me for a bit. I promise I’m going somewhere with this. You see, I love Dungeons & Dragons. More than anything, I love being the Dungeon Master and running games. It's a fun and socially acceptable way to play pretend with your friends.

One day, I was flipping through the Monster Manual, trying to come up with a fun yet challenging new encounter for my players when I happened upon the entry for the Green Hag.

At first, the hag seems exactly like what you would think. From the Monster Manual, 5th Edition:

“Hags represent all that is evil and cruel. Though they resemble withered crones, there is nothing mortal about these monstrous creatures, whose forms reflect only the wickedness in their hearts. The wretched and hateful green hags dwell in dying forests, lonely swamps, and misty moors, making their homes in caves.”

Okay, nothing unexpected here. Evil witch of the woods. Gotcha. But as I read on, I grew more and more interested.

“All hags possess magical powers, and some have an affinity for spellcasting. They can alter their forms or curse their foes, and their arrogance inspires them to view their magic as a challenge to the magic of the gods, whom they blaspheme at every opportunity.”

But then this passage sealed the deal.

“Hags propagate by snatching and devouring human infants. After stealing a baby from its cradle or its mother’s womb, the hag consumes the poor child. A week later, the hag gives birth to a daughter who looks human until her thirteenth birthday, whereupon the child transforms into the spitting image of her hag mother. A hag might return the child to its grieving parents, only to watch from the shadows as the child grows up to be a horror.”

Is that me? Is that what’s happening, only slightly delayed? Am I facing my fate and becoming what I was meant to be all along?

Is that why that chin hair keeps growing back overnight?

The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of hags. The concept of a solitary old woman living in the woods, studying sorcery, collecting weird trinkets, tricking adventurers, shaking her fist at the gods, and being as ugly as she wanted to be really appealed to me.

Yeah, sure, I don’t actually want to curse anyone or steal their souls, but I want the freedom to be old and wise. To be content on my own. To turn some disrespectful young man into a pig if I want.

A hag can dream.

beauty
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About the Creator

Rachael Dunn

I'm the author of the Dusk Eternal trilogy, an Egyptian-inspired fantasy adventure. I'm also a freelance blogger and content writer. I love reading ancient history and playing Dungeons & Dragons.

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