As you know if you're following my posts here, I'm 47 years old. I'm quirky, sassy, goofy, sometimes cranky & snarky. I also have a couple points of view that fly in the face of what our society tries to dictate regarding age and image. Women especially are overwhelmed with images, articles, tabloids, celebrities, advertising, you name it. We are told we have to look young, lie about our age, cover up the aging process, be a certain size, a certain weight, etc, for us to be considered acceptable, beautiful, desirable....and if we can't achieve that, we are not worthy of acceptance, love, respect or admiration. It is an impossible standard to live up to and a source of anxiety none of us need. I have found in my own life that I have enough things to give me anxiety without adding all of that unrealistic garbage.
Truth is, real people don't come that way. Beautiful people come in all sizes, all shades of color, with wrinkles or without, in all ages. I used to buy into it some when I was younger. I was so shy and insecure growing up that I worried all the time about what I looked like, what other kids thought of me. It was bad enough to be socially crippling. I did not yet understand that those things were not important. I had not yet learned how to be comfortable in my own skin. I always wanted to be more like my sister Maria. She's a wandering soul, a free spirit, completely herself, and I wanted to be her. Of course, I can't be her because I'm not her. But I have more fun with her than any other soul on this planet, and I am so thankful she's my sister.
It took me a very long time to become okay with who I was, who I am. Learning to be comfortable in your own skin and with who you are, is an incredible act of emancipation. Knowing I am loved by God unconditionally and knowing it is okay to be me, is a very humbling and empowering thing, and I learned it late into my current years. So here I am. I am 47, with some small wrinkles and some grey hairs, and I don't care. The number of them have increased prolifically since my mother died. I have not yet, nor do I foresee covering up my grey hairs. Why should I?? I have earned every one of those grey hairs. All that grey hair is proof that I have survived and continue to weather the storms in my life. Persevered through some really rough stuff. These grey hairs are like merit badges but better, because I do not have to go out and buy a sash or a vest, and no ironing or sewing is required. I am just thankful I still have hair, especially when I consider what my children have put me through all these years. They are 21, 19 and 15 now, and it is getting better, even though it is still not easy.
I don't play coy games with my age, either. I am not "29ish." I am not "35 and counting..." I'm 47, and I'm thankful the number keeps going up (so far it has!). Why should I hide that? I am not guaranteed the privilege of growing old; my mother didn't. Do I look 47? That is not for me to say. I have no idea. I also don't worry about it. I am what I am, for better or for worse, and the only One whose opinion matters, loves me anyway. As is. Which is more than enough since He's the One who created me. "I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Joshua 14:8
So, be you, and be the best you can be. "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34