Mental Health
Waiting for the Day Saggy Skin and Chin Hairs Become Vogue
Conversations with my mirror
Here’s a great first line for a senior romance novel —
He gazed between her crow’s feet, taking her blue-veined hand in his, proclaiming his adoration for her lovely chin hairs.
I’m ashamed of the conversations I have with my mirror.
Me: Holy cow! What the heck is that?
Mirror: Hey, I’m just doing my job.
Me: A warning would have been nice.
Mirror: I show you every day, dear.
To others, I pretend not to care. Does that make me a fraud? When forty- and fifty-somethings fret over a gray hair, a wrinkle, an extra pound, I tell them what I wish I could believe:
One day, sooner than you think, you’ll look back, laugh at yourself, realizing in the grand scheme of life, you shouldn’t have given a rat’s butt about it.
You see, I want ALL women to know and own their beauty. God outdid himself when He created woman, planning every complicated curve and dimple. We are amazing! My core knows this; it’s in between my ears where this gets muddled.
