Wrinkles, freckles, and silver hair.

I was looking in the mirror this morning and said, girl, what happened??  Then as I stood there, I thought I’ve earned this face and this body as imperfect as they are.  I can love it or hate it but I can’t get away from it, it is me.
I then reminded myself that…
Most of the lines in my face came from laughing with someone I love.
Some of the lines in my face came from worries that are now gone.  
Every wrinkle is like a ring in a tree, another year of survival, another story in the book.
Each freckle, of which they are multiplying, came from sitting in the sun with someone I love.
Every wild wave in my hair came from my Mama and I’ll take that.
And every silver hair, well, those were mostly caused by my kids, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
I know we all see these young people so beautiful and yeah, it’d be nice to be them again, although I was never beautiful like these girls are now.  But you know, we later in lifers are works of art they don’t understand….. yet.  We were created over time, as silly as it sounds, much like the mountains and caverns and creations of nature that took years to form, we have layers of withstanding the storms, changed by each downpour, each day the sun has shone on us, each layer stronger and more vibrant than the last.  We are God’s handiwork.
It takes us a long time to find out who we really are and what we’re made of. The acceptance that comes with age is freeing. I used to hear the 50s are amazing years and I never believed it but it’s true. With age comes a peace and understanding and acceptance that didn’t exist before.
Our bodies started changing the day we were born and they will change until the day we die. Let’s own it, embrace it, live with it, and be amazed and thankful every day that it still works, lol. Let’s allow it to be a showcase to the stories of our life.
I once read that the trick to aging successfully is to pay as little attention to it as possible. My attention span is kind of short anyway so….. We got this!
p.s.  That imperfect image with the bright light behind me, the bra strap showing, the poor lighting in the mirror… yeah, that was taken by me.  I’m a photographer.  But you know what?  Life ain’t perfect and neither am I!


Sign up below and never miss a thing! Posts delivered right to your inbox.

* indicates required

Spread the love


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.