In this crowded forrest of aspirations, I look for the little meadows of peace. To me, those are the truthful ones, the ones that don’t always look amazing, and don’t always feel amazing, and aren’t just so fucking thrilled to be their awesome selves.
So, this is what I really look like. Not a great photo, early in the morning, no make up no filters, just the real true me. I’ll be turning 55 soon. At first glance, I think - ew. I look so old. Grief is certainly no beauty maker. My eyelids are starting to droop. The jowly bits next to my mouth don’t only make me look older but also somehow bitter. The gray in my hair is an easy fix, although, honestly, I’d love to just grow it out and stop coloring.
Now, how can I help to make all this -what we consider flaws - to be seen differently, to be seen as confidence and beauty of a mature age rather than something that needs to be eliminated? I used to think gray hair was aging, that it was a sign of giving in to being old, but thanks to many glorious and rocking hot women on Instagram, I’ve changed my vision to gray hair being sexy and confident. @themiddleagedgoddess @annikavonholdt
There was a quote by @pink to her little daughter, about how it was not for them to fix themselves to fit the standards of beauty, but rather to help other people discover their beauty. Now, that is something to strive for. Not change yourself to fit in the box, but to blow up the fucking box. I’d like to end this post with a rousing “ let’s blow up the fucking box, ladies”, but although I really want to, and will try my best, the truth is that I am a mid-fifties woman, I’m vain and insecure, and next week I could decide to have surgical help to fit the comfortable and warm and familiar box instead of crusading to blow it up. #selfie #truth #beauty #sexyhasnoagelimit#blowupthefuckingbox
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