I was sitting at my vanity the other morning with my nose pressed against the glass so I could see what I was doing. There have been times I’m afraid I’ve gone out looking like a Picasso painting. But instead of attempting to put on eyeliner, I just stared.
For weeks I have been trying to figure out how to best introduce myself as Savoring Midlife. I wanted the perfect introduction! An attention grabbing post that put you on the edge of your seat waiting for the next one to come out. Something truly magnificent.
Hey There Friend!
I know who my audience is, my avatar, is me. And you actually, because we are similar creatures, I can tell. I know what I want to say, well most of the time at least. But how do I introduce myself to you, to the world? Who am I and why would you ever spend any of your precious time here and most importantly, what can I offer you to make your life better.
And then it hit me! It was an epiphany! It was staring me in the face. Literally.
No, it wasn’t a genius idea of a skilled wordsmith. Nope, not even close.
It was a long, wiry, white hair protruding slightly below the left corner of my lip. You know the ones.
At that moment, several things ran through my mind. My first was concern “Good Lord! That thing must have been growing for weeks! I hope no one noticed, but it’s so huge, how could no one have noticed?”
Then came the rage.
“Why hasn’t anyone said anything to me?”
“Everyone I know are dicks!”
“I totally need new friends”.
And, “My husband is so dead for not pointing this thing out!”
Who lets someone they love walk around with a disgusting hair flailing around like one of those wacky waver inflatable tube men you see outside of stores? For real! Who does that?
This is coming from a woman who feels obligated to tell perfect strangers that they have lipstick on their teeth, they look tired or that their skirt is tucked into their undies. So I’m all about telling it like it is, in a caring sorta way of course.
If you’re wondering why this was such an Aha! Moment for me, let me tell you. It was just then that I realized, I’m getting older. Everything is changing. And FAST! My body (where do I start?) my relationships (Where my bitches at?), my hair color (gray is in now, right?) and the list goes on. I thought about how my priorities have shifted, the way I look at life and how even at forty-eight I thought I’d have shit figured out by now but am very much still a work in progress. And especially how we all need to have someone to talk to about stuff going on in our lives.
Yes, I got all that from a hair. I can be pretty deep when I want to be.
Then, after I feverishly yanked that fucker out of my face with a pair of pliers, I realized that I am not the only woman of my generation squinting into the mirror and taking note of their chin hairs and wondering “What the actual fuck is happening here?”
Well, that’s where I come in. Remember, the making your life better question?
I thought you and I need to be friends. Like best friends. Drinking buddies. Friends who can tell it like it is and not give a fuck because this is a judge-free zone. Oh hey, new friend, did I mention I say fuck a lot? #sorrynotsorry.
And if you’re wondering, since then I have also figured out those hairs you’ve ultimately found sprouting on your lip and chin lately, they grow like corn. So you can stop thinking about finding new friends and murdering your other half. Because it really isn’t their fault. And let’s be fair, if they’re as old as you, they probably didn’t see it anyway.