I was laughing the other day and my youngest noticed that when I smile I get “crinkles” around my eyes. This amused her to no end, and got me thinking.
I was never someone who minded the whole getting older thing. I was the one who looked forward to turning 30 because I was done with the 20s. I was the person that left the grey alone, almost proud of it. Never minded my “crinkles” either. For me it was almost like a map to my past, a way for me to remember where I had been.
And yet here I sit today, alone, waiting on my girls to come back from the weekend with their father and I realize that I now own wrinkle cream and the grey has been hidden under hair dye.
I’m wondering at what point did I decide that I needed to look younger? Why was I ok with aging while married? Maybe it was the fact that my husband had watched the process over the course of 16 years? I’m not really sure. There’s one thing that I am sure of though, you can’t stop it. You can hide some of it, but it’s happening either way.
There’s a great line from the Sex and the City movie that has been in my head for a few weeks now….it’s something like, your 20’s are for having fun, 30’s are for learning your lessons and your 40’s are for paying for the drinks.
I’m learning my lessons now. I’ve got 4 years to finish that up and then I’ll pick up the tab. ;-)