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I’m Done With Anti-Aging

I’m done with anti-aging. 

It’s exhausting. 

It’s like we start trying to fit in from when we are little. At least I did.

That could be attributed to moving around every year of my life. No, literally. K-12, I went to a different school through each grade and sometimes two. 

I learned to master fitting in real quick. Fit in or be left out. 

Middle school, or as we called it in my day, junior high, was the peak of that quest for most.

I spent my ‘20s in a fog of depression, although I didn’t know it until the fog lifted. I call her coma girl. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about her. 

The ’30s were the birth of my freedom? I disagree with the current narrative of what freedom means, but I would have labeled it as such at the time. I had a necklace with wings as a reminder that I had found mine. 

Awe. the ‘40s. I spent more time in doctors’ offices when I turned 40 than I had in my entire life. So while perimenopause kicked my ass, my confidence has soared. 

I still feel the self-consciousness of my teens, but I don’t let it paralyze me anymore. I will not miss the pool party for fear of what others will think of me in a swimsuit as I did in 6th grade.

Recently, I had an outbreak of contact dermatitis that shook me up and made me think about my “beauty” routines. I let go of everything for a while, and the truth is, I just felt better.

Like mentally, there was a shift. 

I felt an ease in my body about releasing the search for the next serum, wand, or cream that would give me back my youth.

I found myself down the rabbit hole of Instagram last night, and I’m seconds away from wanting to hit the purchase tab. I’m on a famous facialist insta story and find out she has just launched this new device she uses on Kim K. 

Sold. 

If you don’t know of my infinite love for Kim K, I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I usually keep that secret buried deep, so you won’t stop loving me. Trust me, family and friends have threatened to abandon me due to my devotion to her. Please still be my friend.

Here I am, 10 minutes later, looking at every before and after transformation this magic tool is performing. Heavy lines become a faint image of their former engraved self, and fine lines almost disappear after six weeks of daily use.

It’s beautiful, sleek, and minimalist like everything Shani Darden does. I’ve long been a fan of her skincare line based on its performance and because her packaging is lovely. Those soft rose chairs and faux marble end tables in my salon were all purchased to recreate some of the ambiances in her beautifully designed studio, and it is dreamy.

Why though? 

Why do I need another device that we all know I will only use for a few months before it ends up in a drawer with all the other empty promises? 

If it can’t make me have the face of a 19-year-old me, I just don’t have to give it a go. I’m letting go. 

Not letting myself go. I have no plans to lay in the recliner and eat pot pies all day, although that does ring quite lovely on a rainy afternoon. Except rainy days are every day in Portland. 

It’s just letting go of that force that controls me—that continual push to hang on to old things and resist welcoming the new.

It’s different. I look different. And we don’t like different.

We aren’t that into change. 

We want what we’ve always known because that’s comfortable. 

We live in perpetual fear of the unknown.

I, for one, am tired of living in fear. I picked fearless as my word for 2021. After a year like 2020, I could think of nothing I needed more.

I love skin and will always be obsessed with it. 

I believe in taking care of our bodies and nurturing every part of our temple. 

I’m not anti botox, fillers, and facelifts. 

And, I’m not afraid of aging.

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