I used to always look younger than my age.

And now, at 47, I think things are catching up with me.

I’ve got serious crow’s feet.

My eyelids are getting heavier.

My eyebrows are disappearing (what the hell??? — nobody warned me about that one).

The chin and neck hairs are becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with.

My hair is thinning and my waistline is expanding.

My boobs are getting closer to the ground each day.

There are things I can no longer see no matter how far away I hold them from my eyes.

I have the faint beginnings of age spots on the backs of my hands and I have a few varicose veins on my thighs.

I still have a decent amount of muscle but it’s hidden under a very protective layer of winter weight right now.

I might catch a second glance from a guy if I was wearing my sunglasses and he was speeding by me really quickly.

But up close, I’m starting to look my age.

I caught myself from a particularly  unflattering angle in bright light in the car the other day.

Yikes.

And last week I mistakenly took a picture of myself when I was looking down and my phone was at about waist level and all I thought was, Whoah. I should probably reconsider being on top from now on during sex.

I used to dread this stage of life.

When there were certain angles I would NEVER want people to see me from.

Where my looks weren’t my biggest asset.

And in truth, they never were.

But that’s how little I though of myself. Like the package was the biggest thing I had going for me.

But you know what?

I feel free.

Not being a slave to my appearance is so liberating!

I still want to look cute, of course.

I’m not saying I don’t give a flying fuck about what I look like.

And my health will always be very important to me.

But there is a big difference between health and vanity.

And I’m 47.

Nobody expects me to be perfect.

And finally, I don’t expect me to be perfect.

It may have taken me almost fifty years, but I finally realize my insides have way more to offer than my outsides.

And boy, is that a relief.

Now if I can get that message across to my girls in less than half a decade, then I’ll really feel like I’ve accomplished something.