I sometimes catch myself looking around the room and not understanding how I got here. So many years under me and yet I feel so unprepared for my future. It seems to be happening without my say. Time doesn't seem to care if your not ready, if you need a moment, or if you just want to stop moving forward. Sometimes I catch myself thinking "please can I just stay in this moment a little longer" and I sigh when I see the clock turn. It seems to be happening more and time seems to be getting faster. I catch myself second glancing in the mirror noticing my face changing. Sometimes I don't recognize myself.
I am not alone with the feeling of uncertainty of her future, but am I the only one desperatley wanting it to stop? My mother never told me about this. My father never told me my heart would ache in such a foreign way to even myself. I should know myself the best and yet latley I feel like a stranger. I have been accepting my body more-which should be a positive thing. But again I feel like a stranger in my own skin. I look in the mirror and poke and pull at the skin in the hopes of regaining that fleeting moment of clarity. Where did that scar come from? Is that a stretchmark? Am I still considered beautiful?
And I am with a new love. His eyes are soft and blue like my fathers. That should sound awkward, but I find it so comforting. His hair is turning gray--beautiful array of soft grays and browns. His eyes have begun to show wrinkles in the creases. Men are so beautiful when they age---so not fair. He looks mature, distinguished, handsome. He says such wonderful things about my body, but I dont think he will ever understand how harsh us women can be on ourselves. I cannot stop aging, I cannot stop my skin from wrinkling, I cannot prevent my future self from appearing. I just hope he will still love me as much as he does now when I am no longer young and beautiful. I suppose thats what we all hope for from our partner. But most importantly I hope as I age I can still recognize myself. So strange to think in 20 years I will look as my grandmother did. And I will have my grand daughters look at old photos of me and say "grandma you were so beautiful when you were young" ---that I am scared to death of. You WERE so beautiful. I hope he can say you ARE beautiful to me until I die.
But i digress, I simply have no power or gound to stand on to prevent it from happening. I must instead find a way to embrace it. Maybe someday
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