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I recently grabbed my reading glasses and went to the mirror to pluck a stray chin hair, which I felt but couldn't see. Staring at my reflection without my usual blurred vision, I gasped in silent horror, blindsided by what I saw. This was not the face I expected to find. It looked old and worn with so many new lines. Countless creases layered my forehead, cheeks, chin, eyes and around my lips. Those few dark spots have multiplied, and my once youthful appearance looked weathered and tired. It's as if all the years of my life slammed fast and hard into my face in one frantic burst — the evidence was there. I know this isn't how things transpired, but it sure feels that way. Maybe I've been in denial, or I just needed my glasses to see the truth that's been there all along.
I've been stuck in a terrible rut of dismay about the invading signs on my aging face, feeling depressed, defeated and a little embarrassed. I wrestle with fits of resistance versus painful acceptance, and I’m still unsure which one will win. But as the battle rages on, a redeeming revelation slowly emerges as I reflect on all the possible reasons for the profound transformation I see in my face. I've concluded that what it reveals isn't only a sign of deterioration and damage — it's my personal display of an incredible life lived for nearly 60 years.
I recall all the stressful seasons and situations I've experienced, full of sleepless nights and exhausting days, that have slowly sunk into my skin over time. All my exciting adventures and reckless behavior when I was young, naive, fearless and wayward have etched their indelible traces. It’s all embedded in my skin, which still tries to hold all the countless details of my history together, but it's been strained and stretched under great amounts of pressure, gradually forced to loosen its grip. How can I blame it for losing vitality after enduring so much wear and tear all these years?
I am also quite aware that my leathery look was formed by the sun's strong rays. I've spent thousands of hours at the pool every summer as a child, “laying out” slathered with baby oil and Sun-In in my hair as a teen. I think of the years I took my children to parks, pools, beaches, trails and trips to the zoo while being a stay-at-home mom. Back then, I'd do almost anything to get them out of the house for fun and fresh air. My skin holds the remnants of all the ballparks, swimming pools, football and soccer fields where I spent most of my middle-aged years watching my kids compete in sports they loved.
Even now, I embrace any opportunity to be outdoors because it always fills me with much-needed energy. I swim, walk or ride my bike, and I love meeting friends for a drink or a meal outside. Much of my life story is filled with memorable moments under the bright, warm glow of the sun, and although burning my skin during my stupid teen years is regrettable, I wouldn't change anything else.
I’ve already been through the grueling struggles of accepting that my metabolism is slowing down and my body has formed a new, less flattering figure. I’m learning that aging comes with joint pain and varicose veins while finding out the hard way what your body can and can’t do at this age. I’ve felt the emotional turmoil and all that comes with my eroding hormones, which continue to throw a gut punch now and then. So, it seems this recent development is just one of the many bumps on the path that I will laboriously pave as I trudge my way to the other side of my midlife years. I know I’m only beginning to discover what lies ahead on this aging road, as I'm still far behind my older friends.
It’s true that we all age differently, depending on our lifestyles and genetics. There are days I don’t feel as old as I am. And then there are other days when I feel decrepit. For now, I'd rather not put my glasses on to get a clearer view of this wrinkled old face or take another close-up photo. No matter how much anti-aging lotion I slather on my skin, all those burdensome and beautiful years stored in it will never be erased.
I'll keep reminding myself of all the reasons this body, and how it functions and looks, is still pretty remarkable. I’ll focus on all the fun and rewarding experiences I still enjoy and be grateful for every single day I’m alive. This life is a gift. The older we get and the more loved ones we lose, the more we realize this is our greatest truth.
So, instead of brooding over all my wrinkles that are only skin deep, I'll reflect on the pages of my life's story that lie underneath. When I look in the mirror and scrutinize my face, I'll embrace my smile and laugh lines, the most prominent signs of aging I see. I'll remember to be glad my face holds all the happy memories I treasure most.
What sign of aging has hit you the hardest? Let us know in the comments below.
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Follow Article Topics: Lifestyle
