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.
