Yeah yeah yeah, I’m sure it happens in the life of every woman. The lines connecting your nose to your mouth start asserting their presence on your face. Laugh lines they call them. How cute. How affectionate. Oh sure, I’ve always had them, but I assure you I’m beginning to feel like all of this laughing I’ve been doing in my life is on it’s way back to haunt me. When I stop smiling, yes I want the warm feelings that linger in my chest, but I do not want the lines that linger on my face. I furrow my brow and lines remain. One second. Two seconds. Three? Oh sweet bananas, I’m on the brink of panic. Of course, it is cruel fate that made me one of those obnoxious people who look down on “face work” like Botox and butt fat injections. Will I eventually succumb to treatments? Will I be forced to wear a heavy but invisible scarlet letter H on my chest. HYPOCRITE. Hypocrite. hypocrite…. My descending capitalization is symbolic of the way our nagging voices can be smothered and stifled over time. I suppose getting a look at my plumped up face every morning would start to fade out the scarlet. I watched an episode of Coupling (the British comedy) not very long ago and one of the women, I forget her name, saved her smile only for men who were potential dates. Not friends. Not family. I laughed. That is until the laugh didn’t go away when I wanted it to.
But how often, dear reader, have I admired the delicate lines forming around a gentleman’s eyes or the strands of silver sprinkling his hair? How often have I remarked on how dignified an older woman was, embracing her time-affected face? Have I been totally full of it? Well have I?!! The amount of time that I’ve dedicated lately to staring at and stretching my face in the mirror indicates that I have been totally full of it. Oh I do think it’s beautiful on others, but (insert whiny voice) “I don’t want it to be me!” (Also insert pouty lip and big cartoon kitty sad eyes.) Some of you don’t know me. I do enjoy a good long whine fest. And a wine fest, but that’s another post. Who doesn’t like a little whining? Some “poor me” at the end of the day? However, I do like to get myself out of it and do something about it. Too much whining makes me annoyed with myself, and when that happens I have no escape. So I look for solutions. I can’t just sit back and let time whoop me without a fight. I’m a fighter. I have a plan: never, never laugh again.