Listening to podcasts and reading news debating wrinkles, the amount of pressure on looks, and negative influence making great girls & women insecure.
I’ve had my lines for many years now. They become deeper, and more visible when I’m stressed out or tired. My boys call them ski tracks.
These tracks are the marks of a lot of hard work, uphill battle as change agent, engaged discussions, late nights, lots of laughs, responsibilities, worries, sorrow – and loads of joy.
They’re a part of me, just as stretch marks, cellulite, love handles and all the rest that we pick up through life. There will always be something we can be unsatisfied with, should we choose to care. Someone will always be prettier.
Some years ago I decided that if I ever become tempted to fix my body, I’ll rather donate that amount of money to a good cause related to health. It’s a paradox that we spend so much time and resources on small, unimportant things as our own looks, when we’re quite normal, and what really matters is our health.
How often do you actually look at another person, thinking; “my God, look at her/his angry frown line and that forehead”(?) After all, its the personality of people that matters, not their perfect appearance..
A Norwegian songwriter described it so well: “A drawing of laughter we shared. A drawing of autumn dark paths. A drawing of joy we were given. A drawing of places and roads we walked.“