taking the “ick” out of plastic
okay so here i am standing in front of the bathroom vanity mirror at around midnight, and i find a few new tiny lines that i hadn’t noticed a few nights before. my husband tells me they’re laugh lines. i tell him to fuck himself. that ends that conversation. but truthfully, honestly, ken likes my face plenty. he likes that it has wear & tear, and shows & expresses great joy and sadness and fear and doubt and happiness and sorrow and pain and yes, oh yes yes yes yes yes … ecstacy. he likes that i no longer feel compelled to cover up any of those lines that are popping up left and right. i used to wear a bunch of make-up, years & years ago. base, and blush and mascara and kohl eyeliner and lipstick. now i wear a hint of mascara and lipstick. that’s it. like i said, he likes my face. and through his eyes i have grown to love my face.
i like who i see when i look in the mirror.
i recently stood behind a barbie doll in whole foods. this was no young chick. this was a woman who nipped and tucked her face into a retroactive trout. it was so very scary. her upper lip was so full it touched the tip of her nose. i mean, really…. i couldn’t help but stare. everyone seemed to be staring, looking, checking her out. her face was absolutely expressionless. like a halloween mask. her skin was taut and thin and holy shit… so, so tight. i felt compelled to acknowledge her – because yes, i feel compelled to acknowledge everyone – but then common sense grabbed hold and i was so afraid her face would crack if she smiled back that i refrained. honestly. she was thin and frail and wore tons — ropes and ropes — of necklaces; she actually clanked. and yes, i do get the whole concept of wanting to stay youthful, and trying to keep life at arms length as it comes at you really fast and furious. and yeah sure, i kind of get the whole notion of wanting to stay young, although with age comes great wisdom and amazing knowledge and forgiveness and yes, lines well earned.
my guess, she was around 75, 80 years old.
it was all in her eyes. her entire life was right there in her eyes. and i gotta tell you, you can stretch your entire face up to the heavens, if you don’t love what you see when you look in the mirror at midnight it’s gonna come back to haunt you early morning.
so, love you.
don’t wish for young(er).
wish for grace.
kindness.
wish for peace.
of mind.
on earth.
and when you look in that mirror, see your life. the one you lived & LIVE. every joy, every sorrow, every lover. every break up. every kiss. every great sexual experience. every mistake. every fashion faux-paus. every mini skirt.
ken tells me that smooth tight PULLED & tucked skin is no where as sexy & fabulous as wisdom and laugh lines.
“a little droop goes a long way.”
and that line always – without fail – gets me … in bed.
Category: Uncategorized 5 comments »
August 31st, 2010 at 4:46 pm
omg.
best.
blog.
ever.
beautiful. you made me tear up. i love that you’ve learned to love your own face. can you teach that at the workshop?
wow.
August 31st, 2010 at 6:40 pm
I am am getting better at loving my own face. Now it is my hands I don’t like. I am moving on down. I bet this woman’s hands would give her away if the face didn’t. Great blog, Am
\y as always.
September 1st, 2010 at 1:22 am
If I ‘m fortunate enough to get to be 75 or 80…I’ll be thrilled to look in that mirror…each line stands for more experiences…wealth of a different kind…your honesty Ms. Amy…you just keep bringing it on…thank you…<3
September 1st, 2010 at 8:59 am
Yes yes yes. To all of it!
I’ve worked with some plasticized women and it is exactly that — you stare at them out of horror not appreciation. But those women who wear their years with courage and grace — I stare at them with wonder and awe. Truly.
September 1st, 2010 at 10:17 am
Wonderful, Amy.