“You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your soul’s own doing.”
I read this quote and it really got me thinking about youthful beauty compared to that of later years.
I see beautiful older women who radiate loveliness from the inside out. I want to look like that when I’m 60. My Aunt Robbie is one of those who just gets more beautiful with age, and she is almost 80! I used to think beautiful old people just happened, like some magical transformation. I now know better.
When I was 16, I thought I was homely, fat and about as far from beautiful as a girl could get. What I wouldn’t give now to look as I did at 16! That was before chicken pox scars, before too many recipes made with butter, before (gulp) middle age started settling in.
Why didn’t anyone tell me how traumatic it was going to be to hit 40? Things you take for granted and have become completely used to just being have suddenly turned on you overnight. Gravity has become an enemy, every single thing you eat shows up not only on your scale, but also in the tone and texture of your skin, and wrinkles… oh, I won’t even get started on wrinkles. Or gray hair.
And for goodness sakes, why didn’t someone warn me about the need to be slathered in lotion a couple times of day in an effort to fight off the awful effects of aging skin? If I put on anymore at bedtime, I might slide right off the sheets.
I’ve come to the conclusion that being outwardly beautiful in middle age or older is a lot of hard work. You can’t just coast along hoping things will go well. You’ve got to dig trenches, arm yourself for battle and charge headlong into the war! It isn’t a fight for the weary or faint-hearted.
It takes fortitude!
It takes strength!
It takes patience!
Which is why I might just go sit a while and think about my game plan while eating some chocolate truffles. Maybe I’ll work on ways to enhance that inward beauty while I’m at it.
She Who Is Not Loving Her Wrinkles Today