(thankyou psychx for the inspiration)
i am 35 this year. it is officially time to make “the decision” ... will i gracefully surrender the appearance of youth ? ... or will i become a woman who gets a lot more than the kitchen remodeled ?.
there is just no denying it anymore ... things are happening here !. like some tiny continent, my body is shifting and changing. it’s comforting and strange all at once.
there is an eerily familiar cast to my “womans' " face ... like a living history, i make my paternal grandfather soft with tears each time he sees his long-dead mother in me; her smiling, softly lined face at 35 a mirror of the woman his “headstrong” granddaughter was to become.
there is some comfort within the shock of “first laughter lines” to realize you must have actually been laughing .... and, just like a lifemap, at 35 you start to get the face and body that you actually deserve.
there is nobody alive who could convince me that young people are not beautiful. at the peak of physical health and on the brink of adulthood, these are the people that change the world.
yet, i have to say i’m happy to hand over the “reins”. i’m sad for people who find that transition difficult, and i know many people do. but youth is only cruel in it’s “promise” if you see no purpose in actually being the person you devoted your younger years to becoming.
at 35, i am a result of part-genetics, part-lifestyle and part-learning ... in other words .... my choices and actions. every single one of them.
i now recognize that i have no way of knowing which of my “triumphs” were actually that ... i look back at the times i “won” ... the times i “looked the best” ... the times i “outsmarted” someone ... the times i knew i “had the best car” and “the cutest hubby”. and i can’t help but feel that none of those things really gave me very much in terms of development.
the times i “lost”, though ... the times my hubby “perved” out the window at a woman years younger then me ... the time i got very ill and very thin and had to face a lot of public misunderstanding (especially from women) ... all the times i felt too stupid or too unattractive or too pale or just too not good enough for this critical world ... yep, you guessed it ... those are the things that are holding me up now. those are the things that made me.
disliking my age is denying the person i might still become (not to mention it also means i would have wasted my life so far). i am a long way from finished with this world. and i am not about to waste a single minute wishing that i was “who i used to be” ... physically or otherwise.
entangling your appearance with your self-worth can have nothing but damning consequences under the spotlight of ageing. what lies within you at 35 becomes almost unbearably important ... i am more and yet less than i ever was. i’ve added it all up ... and i’m not going to be asking for a refund anytime soon.
i earned my first wrinkles ... can i call them stripes ? ... they can’t help but convey an emotionally rich life well-lived simply by existing. and they also send an important message to anybody who might care ...
... i’m becoming the woman i spent my youth learning to be. and i like it. result.