Because of the world we live in, that is constantly bombarding us with an oppressive narrative about our bodies never being good enough...,
body image work can be an ongoing, never ending process where we have to continually remind ourselves where our true worth lies.
While I have moments where I sometimes do not love the way my body looks, with practice, I have gotten really good at not letting it mean anything. I can let it go and move on with my day without it effecting my mood.
But after years of work to make peace with my cellulite, I now have another naturally occurring part of my body to reckon with.
Seems like there is always a part of a women's body that can be turned into a weapon to be used against her....,
to take her time, awareness, self-esteem, sense of self-worth and money away.
I remember the very first time I noticed fine lines near my eyes. I was 25 years old and it gave me incredible anxiety.
Since then, the lines on my face have only increased and each day I am having to redefine what they mean for myself.
Because I refuse to accept societies narrative about wrinkles representing a diminution of worth.
It doesn’t mean the thoughts don’t come up.
They come up but I remind myself what these wrinkles actually represent.
Because, I get to define them for myself.
These wrinkles represent the amazing amounts of fun I’ve had dancing until the sun comes up.
...of the crazy times I’ve had at Burning Man and Coachella with my friends.
I would not trade less wrinkles for those experiences, ever.
They remind me of the hardest years of my life, where I was the most depressed and sad I’ve ever been so I smoked cigarettes to cope.
I would not trade the hard times for less wrinkles because they taught me so much.
They remind me of how lucky I am and of how much fun I’ve had the last 12 years living in SoCal where it's sunny nearly every single day.
I would not trade the feeling of the warm sun on my face for less wrinkles.
These wrinkles remind me that I am still fucking alive.
That I’ve had the PRIVILEGE of getting older.
A gift not everyone gets.
They represent the years I’ve been here on earth, learning, expanding, growing, evolving, transforming and witnessing the gift of life.
I refuse to believe that these lines of experience and wisdom that grace my face make me less beautiful.
I refuse to pander and acquiesce to the violent, oppressive, money-seeking narrative about women with wrinkles.
Everyday when I look in the mirror and inspect the increasing number of them, I rewrite the narrative.
For myself and for all women.
We should not be embarrassed or ashamed or have to spend our hard earned cash trying to erase the