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A Birthday Wish

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Today I enter the last year of a decade I tip-toed into in 2015 with some bemusement and a not without a touch o’ disbelief.

Today I turn 69 and to believe the media, I have long passed my expiration date of desirability as a woman. But here’s the un-botoxed-wrinkle in that. Every woman is an “aging woman.” Yet the window for beguiling is a short one in our still youth culture, one lasting only a third of our life expectancy.

Women’s attractiveness seems at best highly perishable. Not unlike a container of milk there seems to be an expiration date, a best-used by date of about 30 years.

The insistence that there is an arbitrary expiration date for women and their perceived beauty has not lessened its strong grip. In fact, it has only accelerated as more fillers, serums, and procedures lay in wait to correct the “problems,” fix the “flaws,” and reverse signs of aging.

To turn back time.

All Out War

Having been drafted by the media at an early age, I have been waging a war against any visible sign of aging for over 45 years. Like most girls I learned at an early age that along with a “visible panty line” there were to be no visible signs of aging.  Or we ourselves would become invisible.

By 1985, as 30 loomed for me, it was all-out war.

So began decades of daily reconnaissance scrutinizing my face and body for any and all flaws. I was on high alert as a full-on assault on wrinkles, creases, furrows, and lines escalated. My defense budget skyrocketed as I boosted my already bloated arsenal of costly creams, lotions,  and potions.

It is only now that I am beginning to question if it’s truly a battle worth waging.

Occasionally I am told “I don’t look my age,” the holy grail of praise for a woman.

Though secretly pleased, I also know  I will never be 30 again, nor 40. Why would I look that way? Over six decades of sorrows and loss, despondency, and pain, along with great loves and laughter, wisdom, and adventure are etched as deeply in my face as in my heart and psyche.

I wouldn’t have it any other way. It is a life lived.

I am far from expired.

Time marches on, and I’m happy to walk to the beat of my own drum.

It is my birthday wish for all women, to feel at peace with themselves.


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