So I turned 29 yesterday…. not really obviously, I’m in denial a bit about my aging problem. I turned 36 and it was a pretty miserable birthday spent, yet again in bed, sick. I was sick last year as well; I actually think I stress myself out a week or two before my birthday about the fact that I am aging, and I become literally ill over the thought (not really but it’s a fun theory). I always thought I would be one of those “grow old gracefully” women or maybe I ignorantly believed I would never actually grow old. I would NEVER consider Botox, or plastic surgery, or even wrinkle creams because those were for people who had self- esteem issues and couldn’t just age gracefully. That’s what I thought when I was 19. Now that I’m 36 and decaying, I think differently about those ideas in little jars and needles. I would probably consider all of the above plus whatever new they come out with; not that I’m proud of that fact. Life for a woman in her prime is like a beautiful, white, rose- stunningly lovely.
So Beautiful, so Proud, so Pristine.
And slowly, as the seasons change and the winds blow and the air turns cold, the roses petals start to fall off, one by one, and they start to brown and wither and decay and eventually die. I feel kind of like that rose, still tall and strong, all my petals in place, some of them even still have a beautiful hue, but others are starting to wilt a bit and many of them are starting to brown around the edges. It’s just not quite as pretty and youthful as it once was. That’s my take on growing old gracefully or not so gracefully as I’ll readily admit. It is a hard pill to swallow when it actually starts to occur to you and not just those old people around you. It seems as if in the blink of an eye, I turned around from my pristine innocence to view a much older, more wrinkled version of the young girl I once knew in the mirror.
I know for the next few posts I was going to write about the systems I have in place for the Ronne family but it seems appropriate today, in the spirit of my decaying, aging body, to talk instead about some of the systems I have in place to slow down the decaying process as much as humanly possible (which really isn’t all that much in the grand scheme of it all). First, I own the systems, for sure. Every woman reading this knows what I’m talking about –the systems that the 19th centurions affectionately referred to as girdles. I don’t actually know what they’re called, Spanx I think, I do own them – but I don’t wear them. I can’t. They hurt, and I can’t eat anything with one of those contraptions on, not to mention, they kind of deter things from happening very sporadically or romantically in the bedroom - who knows maybe that’s why they were created, some woman had enough of her husband’s prowling hands and Voila! A million dollar idea was born.
Secondly, I married a man who is graying much faster than I ever will (actually, I probably won’t gray, it doesn’t really run in the family). In my birthday letter this year, my sweet man actually said, and I quote, “ I know you are struggling a little bit with the fact that we are growing older (he’s probably getting that from my nightly dissection episodes, peering at every new wrinkle in the mirror before bed) but you will always look younger than you are by 10+ years especially if you hang around me:)” Nothing like a good man to make you feel young.
Finally, I haven’t smiled in years. Going through tons of hardship and pain through my twenties and thirties has to have bought me at least 5-7 years in the wrinkle department, no crow’s feet for me! At least that’s how I try to look on the bright side of going through events less than smile worthy.
Ok – so that was my sarcastic take on aging. Seriously, I don’t do a lot to prevent the process. I never really thought about it until recently. I drink tons of water - literally gallons a day and coffee, water, tea, and wine. No pop, no juice, ever. I don’t know if it helps but I do have decent skin. I have been told it’s genetics, but genetically, the women of my blood line tend to drink a lot of water, so who knows, genetics, water, all of the above, not sure exactly.
Secondly, when I was about 13 I read an article in 17 Magazine that has stuck with me for life about removing all of your makeup before bed and I have done it ever since. Every last drop comes off and night time, (now anti-aging peptides included) moisturizer added.
I have also abided steadfastly to the belief that the sun will age me. Friends have mocked me, family has assailed me, but my body has remained quite white, referred to as “milky white” by my husband while we were dating and “pasty white” through my married years but white nonetheless. I do buy the anti aging products, a bit obsessively now that I’ve noticed a fine line or two (or three or four). I apply them vigorously every night to the point where my face turns red, almost scorched like, and it seems like it might be literally burning my wrinkles off… hey whatever works…
But really, I stay active, very active, I have 7 kids, I don’t really have a choice. I love deeply, I work hard, play hard, eat as healthy as I can with lots of butter thrown on top of the greens I cook, and I’m thankful – so immensely thankful for the life I have and the blessings God has given me. Here’s to many more years of decay!
Just keep livin!!