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Aging — it’s mind over matter

January 22, 2010

If I were a believer in “signs,” I would wonder about what the “UNIVERSE” was trying to tell me this past week. A common thread weaved its way through conversations, popped up on Facebook, and been presented to me through in other forms even less “knock-you-over-the-head,obvious.”

It started, I believe, with a comment that I put out there (if I were a person who believed in all of that, of course). I was talking to a friend online about weight loss, fitness, body image, etc. She was telling me how even though she was at her heaviest she felt most comfortable with her current body image. Kudos to her, I said. That’s a huge accomplishment. I, only the other hand, was struggling with that. Body image. I’ve definitely had more “glass half empty” days lately, when it came to that particular topic. New year, new image…blah blah.

I was talking to another good friend yesterday and we got on the topic of career changes and going back to school, etc. I encouraged him to go for it. Told him he was so young (30s) and that this was the time to make the change, etc. This launched a short conversation about age where he something to me that made my entire day. “Yeah, but I don’t ever think of you as 44. I see you as like 33, at most.” 33? I can do 33.

Just after my conversation with my friend (the one who thinks I’m 33, who I love dearly!), I made my way to the dermatologist for an afternoon appt. I had never been to this office before and was faced once again with the theme of the week.

The walls of the waiting room were plastered with “before and after” snapshots of women who were clearly not as comfortable with the aging process as I was (smile). Brochures scattered about the office described that “As time passes our skin shows the natural, inevitable signs of aging – wrinkles, sagging…” and how their docs could “…re-volumize your face for a more youthful and attractive appearance” and how “As time passes our skin shows the natural, inevitable signs of aging – wrinkles, sagging…”

As I sat there looking at the women, some of them who had clearly had some lifts and tucks done (and it wasn’t pretty), I felt a sense of peace. I knew that for a price, and some pain, I could follow that path, but then I wouldn’t be me anymore. I’d be that woman seeking perfection. Trying to be something she is not.

So today I filled out a Facebook survey that popped up on my wall (and you KNOW those things are so dead-on accurate, right?), and according to the experts, my TRUE AGE is 24. So…there you have it. I am really 24, inside. (and apparently, I’m 33 on the outside.)…

Okay, UNIVERSE, I hear you. Get over it, you say. I get it. I’m 44. I will own it. The alternative sucks.

“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” ~Mark Twain

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