In The Now

We are past fifty. We are deeply into the age of sagging skin, brown spots, love handles, spider veins and a plethora of discolorations, alterations and frustrations over the loss of our once taut, freckle-free bodies.

The panic started for me around the age of 45. Everything was heading South, thinning and wrinkling. I watched other women to see if they were aging at the same rate as I. I asked everyone who looked better than me what they were doing. I started reading articles about products and procedures that would stop this horrifying decay.

At fifty the panic turned to action. I bought the products, scheduled the procedures and started working out like crazy. It certainly helped, but the decaying process still continued. By 57 I had tried everything that seemed practical, but something else had happened as well. Several friends were suddenly faced with life threatening illnesses. My closest friend died. My parents began to lose their consummate youthfulness.

I became somewhat less obsessed with youth and beauty, and a little more focused on living in “the now”. I began looking at new procedures more skeptically, and concentrating more on a diet of fruits and vegetables, only having meat occasionally. A new reality has set in. I find myself reading articles that reflect the change – articles that question the efficacy of lasers, infra-red and radio-frequency treatments. Most doctors say they do very little to tighten our sagging skin or remove our cellulite.

I’ve noticed negative articles about special diets and weight-loss pills. I’ve begun to really hear the advice from trainers to tone down your work outs to avoid hurting yourself. I’ve settled in to a new phase of life, and it feels much more comfortable than the last one.

I’m not giving up my Obagi products. I’m still having my hair highlighted, lowlighted and glossed. My teeth will still get whitened occasionally, and I will still attempt to work out regularly. But I’m determined to learn to love these love handles, and view the brown spots on my hands as signs of 57 years of work well done.

Comments

I agree that getting older is not for sissies. I just turned 57 and find that the wrinkles, age spots and sagging boobs are just for starters. I didn't even know I'd get chin whiskers and start to snore! But I watch my daughters with their little kids and I'm happy that's all behind me I finally have the wisdom to know that just being alive is awesome.
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