Wrinkles are a Reflection of Life – Embrace Them

Wrinkles and greys

Wrinkles and greys (Photo credit: spykster)

I have always prided myself on the fact that people think I look younger than my 44 years.  I have very few wrinkles, if any, around my eyes and mouth to give away my age.  While it is true that I have tried to take care of my skin throughout the years, have never smoked, and I do not purposefully lay out in the sun.

As I was having a conversation with someone the other day who was commenting on their own youthful appearance, they attributed their lack of furrows and creases to genetics.  So, I contemplated that and thought of my mother and grandmother and their appearance.  As my grandmother died in her early 60s while I was 18, I cannot recall her that well, and she looked the same to her for as long as I could recall.  My mother on the other hand has had a difficult life and aged very quickly from the time my dad was killed, she also has had a tendency to be a sun worshiper; so I could not necessarily determine my genetic outcome based on her skin.

However, I started to think about my lack of wrinkles as more of a reflection of my flatness.  The fact that I rarely smile, almost never laugh, and have very rarely laughed out loud all adds to the fact that I have almost no wrinkles.  When people look at me, I rarely have an expression on my face.  If I am smiling, it does not reach my eyes, it is superficial at best.

There are those rare times, those moments when I am caught off guard and with that special someone, when I can finally relax and just be myself, when I laugh; then I catch myself and feel self-conscious, and I stop. I am not proud of the fact that I cannot relax and enjoy life, it just is what it is.

While I am proud of the fact that I look more youthful than I am, there are times that I would change that fact to have smile wrinkles around my eyes and mouth, those lines that prove that I have laughed and lived.  I would like to have those creases and furrows that have proved that I have cried and worried, that I have loved and been loved.

I would like to have the lines to prove that I am truly not just the flat girl… because, on the inside, I am not.

6 thoughts on “Wrinkles are a Reflection of Life – Embrace Them

  1. I do not do such things anymore, but I once had an intense acid trip. As such things go it was part wonderful and part horrible.

    The bad part blossomed from the good. I was feeling wonderful and I kept feeling better and better more and more intensely until the sheer power of the good feeling overwhelmed me and became a complete horror. And got worse and worse. What a horrible thing to “learn,” that intense happiness intensifies into absolute misery.

    After that experience I found that I could not laugh for well over two years because if I did it re-triggered the experience. I didn’t smile, I didn’t laugh, I did not dare enjoy anything. It actually took many years to completely get over it and still it is a distant chip on my shoulder.

    It took so long but I did get over it. I pursue laughter and happiness once again. It did not happen because someone helped me or because something suddenly made sense. It had to work itself out in its own time, in my own time. I’m not used to sharing that. Maybe this is why I wish to walk with you now.

    • Thank you, Sir, for sharing so much of yourself with me.

      I cannot recall a time where I was ever so carefree that I laughed or smiled easily; but, I know I used to smile quite a bit more than I do now. I know it changed July 1, 2004. My father was killed by my mother on that day.

      It was not that I was particularly close to my father, in fact, quite the opposite. He had not spoken to me for three years, aside from a brief ten minute visit when I tried to reconcile with him a month before his death and he threw me out of his house. Still, I loved him dearly. His homicide shook our family to the core…

      Set aside the fact we all must have known their relationship would probably end violently… what is it they say, “Live by the sword, die by the sword”? So it goes, so it goes. I don’t necessarily think about his death constantly, I just feel much more seriously about life in general; as if I am searching for a purpose. Or, maybe I am just lost.

      Thank you for walking with me.


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