Reframe: wrinkles are actually trophies

Anyone else think it's weird that dominate culture is hell bend on erasing any proof of a life well lived from the female body? That we have to remove wrinkles and silver hair to try to look younger...because to look older is somehow "bad." That to age is somehow seen as a deficiency of character (when really it’s the most natural thing in the world)

Well, I for one think this weird AF narrative has got to go! So I'm reframing, I'm changing the script.

Wrinkles and silver hair are trophies, the blue ribbons for making it 40+ years of age.

I know women (some as young as 32!) are using botox as "preventative" skincare. That this "safe" procedure will keep them looking younger...as if that's the goal. We’ve been taught to see aging as something to resist, cover up, or “fix,” but I don't see it that way. I believe the lines on our faces and the strands of silver in our hair are actually proof of living fully.

In 1900 (not that long ago!) the life expectancy in the USA was less than 50 years. That's right, just 125 years ago, I would be in the last 10% of my life. We actually didn't have a chance to get "old" because we would be dead first.

But now, I have potentially another 40 - 60 years to live (I plan on living to 100) With all this extra time, I can really grow into my wrinkles and silver hair. I can use these trophies as an outward expression of a life fully lived.

Because I don’t want to be good at "looking young.” I want an outward, physical expression that I’m a pro at living.

The lines around my eyes remind me of the late nights I spent laughing with friends until our stomachs hurt. The creases on my forehead? They’re evidence of the times I worried, cared, and showed up for people who mattered to me. They're proof of the the sun in my eyes on long runs and hours spent on my paddle board. My silver hair sparkles are a way for folks to see that I'm not a 20-something rookie at life...I'm a seasoned pro at life, getting wiser with each passing year.

When we erase the physical markers of time, we also erase the visible proof of our joy, heartbreak, resilience, and wisdom. Without wrinkles and silver hair, we lose perspective on just how far we’ve come and how much we’ve lived. They’re not imperfections — they’re perspective in physical form.

I am wearing time…how freaking cool is that! I’m wearing my life like I am stoked to be here. I am wearing my years with pride, like a medal earned after a marathon. To look in the mirror and see not flaws, but trophies of learning and growing as I move through my 5th decade. I can't wait to get more trophies as I turn pro at living.