Hand Me My Cane, Get My Prunes, Don't Forget the Bengay® and for God's Sake, turn that music down!

◊Sigh◊  I am old.  23 years old to be exact, and I am loving it.  It dawned on me a few weeks ago how excited and content I am with "growing up." I am grateful for all the experiences I have been given, which have bestowed invaluable knowledge and better understanding of my fellow human, in particular my parents, and even more crucial, myself.  It is a bit astounding to think who I was and what I wanted five years ago or even three, and tremendous to see my own growth and depth as a person and how I have subtly transformed. It is highly satisfying.

All of this led me to an important premise.  WHY, please WHY do we all celebrate youth so much?? If getting older is so fantastic and fulfilling, then why do we worship youth or the youthful looking at the very least!? I think about all the money poured into looking youthful. Time for facials, pedicures, manicures, laser treatments, don't worry we can sand that off, cellulite is no problem- use this cream, let's slap some porcelain veneers over those corn-colored, cracked guys, this acid peel should take off your first few layers of epidermis and at least 8 years, don't worry we won't discover the true side effects and repercussions for another 20 years.  Don't forget the hair, let's put some highlights and go back with some lowlights to cover all the hideous gray, and while you are at it, how about a spray-on tan, there is no excuse for pasty, white skin, I don't care if it's February!  A little Botox® here for those laugh lines and crow's feet, some Resilin for those deflated lips, this magical syringe removes all varicose veins, just bite down on this leather strap,  a nip here, a tuck there,  s  t  r  e  t  c  h this on over, push those bad boys on up, we'll teach gravity a lesson,  and TA-DA! Endless hours of discomfort and effort later, not-to-mention thousands of dollars, the outcome is a 50-something year old woman perfectly preserved to look not a day over 40! 

When I use the pronoun "we" I mean women.  Yes, it seems cosmetic upkeep has recently become more popular with men, but overall it's a woman's sport.  I can't say that I don't understand the enormous social pressure our culture places on women's shoulders to maintain appearance, nor the "need" or desire to stay beautiful in our world where "beauty" is a misnomer for "youth".  It's ironic that the confidence women search for throughout their youth and early adulthood is generally found in mid-life when women have passed their physical peak.  So, I do understand how incredible it would be to be able to possess both the beauty of their youth and the confidence, wisdom, and knowledge of being older.  I guess it is the classic female desire of wanting it all, especially what we can't have.

I digress.  I guess my main point is that I have made the realization that what I really want out of life is inner peace, acceptance and love of myself, which hopefully would flourish into self-confidence.  Therefore, this is a big goal of mine for 2008 and my 23rd year.  Learning how to love, appreciate, and accept myself just as I am in each moment of life.  This doesn't mean I will become a stagnate person and stop trying to improve in all facets, but understanding beauty is ephemeral, and self-love, respect, and confidence are enduring.