Wednesday, September 17th 9:53 pm
Some days waking up is not all that it’s cracked up to be.
Today was one such day.
In years past I’d wake up and not think too much about how I looked. That first glimpse image I saw in the bathroom mirror was fairly decent. No complaints. Well, not many, anyway.
Funny how the progression of age silently creeps up on you until one day you look in the mirror and don’t recognize who is standing there. How did this happen? Funny? Well, I don’t think so! I see no humor in it! Not one bit!
I used to think, seemingly now eons ago, that I was (dare I say?) attractive. I had my moments. Not many, but some. Sadly, in my estimation, the last good photo of me is some 25 years ago! Seriously. Then I was Ariel. Well, Ariel without the flowing auburn hair. And, okay, Ariel without the seashell bra and mermaid tail. Okay, I never looked anything like Ariel.
Perhaps, I venture to think, I looked more like a chubby Diane Keaton or Jacqueline Smith (on a really, really, really good day – while looking in the mirror without my glasses on and while squinting – and maybe with a glass or two of wine in me – under soft pink lighting).
Those were the days.
Today was not one of those days.
Today I woke up looking like Winston Churchill.
And, that, my friends, is never a good thing. Even for Winston Churchill.
Alas, the hands of time have caught up with me and quite honestly, have not been too kind (in my estimation). Gravity and the loss of collagen are quite apparent. Stress has played a factor, I’m sure. And, so has diet. Who knew that Cheetos and Hohos were so detrimental to one’s skin? Exercise – or, in my case, lack of exercise hasn’t helped either. And then there were the summers spent sunbathing with baby oil slathered on my body. Sunscreen wasn’t invented yet or was (ignorantly) scorned. I even sold it for years – but never wore it. Who, me? Why be lily white when you could be golden bronzed thanks to Coppertone Deep Tanning Oil and a folder covered in tin foil held under your chin? Our beautiful roasted Thanksgiving turkeys were paler than I was after a summer in the sun!
I’ve named the deer in my yard. I’ve named the slugs on my deck. I think I should start naming my age spots! “Hey Cecily – looking darker today.” “Fred – nice of you to show up.” “Randy – how’s your twin brother?” Sigh.
There is a saying in the cosmetic world that “at 20 you have the skin you were born with, at 40 you have the skin you have created, and at 60 you have the skin you deserve”. Apparently, I deserve this.
As I looked in the mirror, less with horror than indignation and resignation, I thought of what ol’ Winston said, “If you are going through hell, keep going.”
And then it dawned on me…maybe this is the worst I’ll look? Maybe this is my hell. So, just keep going. It’s the natural thing – right? The ebb and flow, the yin and yang, up and down. Maybe I’m just in a valley and it’s all up from here?
I doubt it – but a girl can dream (or be completely delusional)! But I have a plan. More creams, on the face/not in the body … more sleep … more exercise … less Cheetos. Well, maybe not that last part.
In any case, I know I’ll never look like Ariel or a young Diane Keaton – a Disney movie lead nor plastic surgery are in my future – and I’m okay with that.
But, I really don’t want, anymore, to be waking up Winston!