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June Renew: Day Fifteen

I don’t notice wrinkles on those who aren’t elderly. I’m not sure I even have them myself. One time my old co-worker was going on about her crow’s feet, but I didn’t see them. She even pointed them out to me and I still didn’t see. Getting old and wrinkly just never really mattered to me. I’ve always appreciated the quote from Italian film actress Anna Magnani: “Please don’t retouch my wrinkles. It took me so long to earn them.” I heard that and was completely sold. No retouching. No plastic surgery. No needles, nothing. However I age, I will age. I smoked cigarettes for ten years, I’m due for wrinklemania in a decade or so. And when I finally become a mommy, it’ll only add to my stress and I’ll love every single stretch mark that comes with it.

I’m really not trying to judge anyone who does get plastic surgery or botox or whatever. Other people’s bodies are not mine to police. I just believe, on the whole, in not messing with what God gave you. Surgically altering one’s self for purely cosmetic reasons is not a permanent fix, and you’ll always have to keep making alterations as you age. Your nose keeps growing, your ears keep growing, and gravity is certainly a thing. Who wants to put up with the hassle, honestly? Believe me, I know not everyone is on board with my line of thinking. I’ve already declared my “no touching” rule, even as I’m surrounded by twentysomethings who’ve already had nips and tucks and injections here and there. It’s just obvious to me. It’s just not something I’d ever be comfortable with broadcasting all over my face.

My friend once told me I should cover up the dark circles under my eyes because they make me look “tired.” Well, they came pre-installed. Even if I do once in a while dab a little foundation if I’m feeling inspired, they never really get covered. I figure what you see is what you get, even if that means a little mascara brightens things up once in a while. I’ve grown accustomed to my face. I know what it looks like. I know what look I’m giving at all times. I know how it moves And I’d never want to look in the mirror and see someone who lost her natural groove.

Again, I’m not telling anyone what they should do with their bodies. We had enough of that in the Bad Times™. I just think that going forward, “when all this is over,” we’ll see a resurgence off what naturally exists. People will begin to embrace their flaws and work with them, rather than against them. They can fix what is fixable through natural means, and reject the pressures of chasing an impossible standard. I know I’m a wide-eyed idealist about things, but I can’t help but feel something of that extent is coming. Like we can fold over and create a new crease out of things. Because it seems like no matter who you are or what you look like, there’s always going to be someone out there who can’t wait for the chance to get you to to pucker up. And that kind of happenstance is the most natural one of them all.

Words yesterday: 998. Closed the gap from Tuesday’s words but those 750 I lost last week? Still need to be made up somewhere. I keep thinking I’ll do them on my train ride next week.

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