Have you had a moment like this? The other day, I was looking in the mirror and noticed that my brand new, red lipgloss had crept into the tiny cracks (dare I say, wrinkles?) above and below my lips. Crap! I had hastily applied the gloss in the car mirror just before jumping out for an appointment and was unaware of this insidious gloss migration. Oh how mortifying!
Scrub, scrub. Off goes the gloss and down goes my self-esteem.
I remember being a sales associate at The Body Shop at the tender age of 16 and confidently talking up the benefits of our great, new lip-line fixer, designed to curb this very catastrophe. My customer, who was at least twice my age, smiled sweetly saying, "Oh honey, what would you know about that?" I thought I knew everything. (Don't all 16 year olds know everything?) I can now testify that I was pretty unprepared for just how much age would change things.
I guess I'm of the age that lipgloss is not my friend. (sigh)
How often do you peer at the mirror and say something like this...
I guess I'm of the age that I need to start considering botox.
I guess I'm of the age that I need a good pair of Spanx.
I guess I'm of the age that I should start minding my grays, or purging my mini-skirts, or upgrading my eye-glass prescription, or watching my IRA, or....... (you fill in the blank.)
Getting old is a real drag.
...Or is it?
If I ran into 16-year-old me at the makeup counter today, what would I say? How would I look? Would I appear confident and full of life? Or would I be beaten down, degraded by the "tragedy of aging"? It's a choice how you see yourself. It's a choice how you project yourself. And it's definitely a choice what you tell yourself.
It's time to tell a new story in the mirror.
I'm of the age that this week I got to attend the Women's Leadership Conference and celebrate the innovation, determination and generosity that women (of all ages) bring to the table.
I'm of the age that I can wear my form-fitting BCBG black trousers with my favorite rock star belt to said conference and hear from my 7 year old son on the way out the door,"Mommy, you look like some kind of celebrity."
I'm of the age that I get to decide my own dreams, fund them with my own money, ingenuity and passion.
I'm of the age that I can choose to wear what I want (that's mini-skirt AND red lipgloss, thank-you-very-much) if that's my prerogative or I can gracefully embrace new looks.
I'm of the age that my crow's feet show off every year of smiles that I've shared.
I'm of the age that my friends don't all come from the same age group or classroom or walk of life. We're a diverse bunch.
I'm of the age that I have the perfect excuse to spend Saturday afternoons watching cartoons on the big screen with a giant tub of popcorn for sharing and my favorite guilty-pleasure-- Snow Caps.
I'm of the age that I see decades of opportunity ahead of me and decades of experience behind me.
I'm of the age that I know I don't know it all and I'm okay with that.
I'm of the age that I can say in the mirror "Hi, beautiful!"
I would love to hear what's so great about getting old for YOU.
Comment below. Let's hear about the real beauty of aging.