It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I am on a perennial quest: To lose weight, to flatten my tummy, to make my hair less frizzy. [For the complete list of all the things I want to change in my body and life in general, you can contact me separately, preferably with a bottle of wine and dark chocolates.] Recently, one more thing got added to my long list of vain concerns: age. So, this is my musing on getting older and other stuff.
Just to let you know, ‘the thirties’ and I are not strangers. We are getting comfortable with each other.
In a few years, when this relationship reaches its expiry date, I will cry and beg my thirties to stay!
I have almost given up hope that I will ever look ‘not pregnant’. I have decided to enjoy and bask in the glory, you know. I mean, at least they think I am still young enough to mother a child. I have promised myself, next time I hear,
“Oh you look fresh, glowing. Are you pregnant? ”, I am going to give them my ‘keep guessing’ smile and move on!
So coming back to my newest concern: Age.
The other day I looked in the mirror and found that my face is covered with spots of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. My nose looks like the surface of the moon, through a Hubble. My chin has sprouted a tiny beard (oh I wish I was a man, I would be in vogue!), and I know now that laugh lines are not related to improv theater. I see them even when I am not laughing. Unsure of what to do with my melting face, I turned to my friend, Google:
- How to reduce wrinkles?
- How to apply makeup to look younger?
- How to hide age?
- Best skin tightening serums?
- Hair color to reduce age
- How to avoid social gatherings
- How to change the topic when someone asks my age ….
Everywhere I looked, I kept seeing products and ways that would make me look, you know, my mental age.
I started discussing with friends and colleagues about Korean skincare regimes. I convinced my husband to include more vegetables on our dinner menu (oh that did not go well at all, let me tell you.) I watched videos of makeup tutorials. I looked at random people and started guessing their age. I have now a whole new level of respect for people who ‘age well’.
Recently, an angel of a friend, may the force be with her, told me I haven’t changed much from my 8-year younger self. I celebrated by finishing a packet of chocolate cookies.
Another time I was sitting on a public transit and someone asked me if I was a student. Oh my, I almost hugged the adorable stranger before I blurted out about my husband and my four-year-old daughter.
But I compared my old pictures and found a big difference. I was definitely lacking something back then which I have now (apart from the crater-y nose pores, and the goatee, the chubby layer of fat on my arm….). I lacked confidence. With all my youth and vibrancy, the 24-year-old me was an unsure woman still trying to figure things out. Even with a slimmer waist and voluminous hair, I never felt enough. And that reflected in all the pictures.
While the current me is definitely 3+ sizes larger, with a bulging tummy, and frizzier hair, I look like a much surer person. It looks like I now have a much better picture of where I want to go and who I want to be. And I know why I love looking at pictures of Nandita Das, Sudha Krishnamurthy, or even Sushma Swaraj.
Now I know why I find Ellen DeGeneres super cute, or Meryl Streep beautiful.
And trust me whenever I am on the public transit I see the same thing across younger women. When I see a porcelain-skin, thin teenager, with heavy makeup, false eyelashes, and an Insta worthy dress, most of the times I see her trying to find the woman she will be years later. And I truly hope it doesn’t take her 10 years to figure that out.
This is a regular feature article by Whiny Bear, where she pens down her thoughts on various things. This time she writes about her new year resolutions! If you want to read her previous articles, click here