age...ing

Growing up, i never really worried about getting older. I don't know if it's because my mom was 40 when I was born pr because there was never a conversation of her "getting old" or "growing old" or "getting wrinkles/grey hair".  I remember people would ask, "How come your grandma picks you up from school?". ha! (sorry mom )

I also owe a lot to my mom because I never grew up hearing her comment on her weight or looks...ever. Sure they did the diets, exercises and fads, but I never heard her talking about it. And i'm grateful for that. Once lucy reached around 3 years old I realized that I had to really alter the way I talk around her. I had two girls, there was a lot of pressure in my mind, to be a good example about body image and the conversation we have in our home about that. I've tried (probably with no avail) to teach them that you are beautiful when you use your talents, your mind, and are a friend to everyone. That it's not what you wear, but what's in your head that really matters.

The world will always judge people by the way they look. That will never change, or at least, not for a very long time. But I truly believe that beauty (as tacky as this may sound) comes from the inside out.  Real, honest to goodness beauty. Not the kind that is applied with products or trendy clothes. Beauty that people can feel and sense and physically feel when they are around you. I feel powerful when I feel beautiful, but the catch is that I feel beautiful when i feel confident and powerful.

I haven't minded the wrinkles as they have come. I found 8 grey hairs in Taylor Hall my freshman year in college ( i was 18!). My grandmother and mother have always been my role models and mentors, and i think both of them aged gracefully and with power and beauty. I can count on my hands how many times I have seen my mom in pajamas and not ready for the day.

But...the other day, oh. I was somewhere with awful fluorescent lighting, and I saw my face up close and the wrinkles somehow have multiplied overnight my friends. Deep, deep wrinkles.  All those years of swimming and lifeguarding and hanging outside is coming back to bite me. I walked out of that bathroom feeling awful. I looked at ty and did a little pouty face. "what's wrong?" he asked.

"my wrinkles", i sighed. and he just patted me on the back and we kept walking.

So what, i have more wrinkles now. i also wear less make-up most days. i wash my hair almost every 3 days. i bought a new pair of sweatpants at Christmas time and they might just be making more of an appearance than on Sundays. But I feel comfortable, I feel powerful, I feel beautiful.

Even in sweatpants and wrinkles.

So, I don't know what the point of this was. But I am getting older, it's showing, and...I'm ok with it. All that I've experienced to get the wrinkles was worth it, I wouldn't go back for a minute.

*for some reason, my collars just pop up on their own. wink wink.

When or what makes you feel beautiful? I'd like to know.