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Chin Hairs, Neck Wrinkles, and Thinning Hair—Oh My!
So, I had to sit through some HR training at work this week, and there was this whole section on age discrimination. Apparently, the Age Discrimination in Employment Act (ADEA) protects folks who are 40 and over. Wait, what? Now that I’m in my 40s, there’s a law that has my back because of my age? I still crack up at fart jokes; how can I be considered “old”? It seems like I’ve been tossed into the realm of “middle age” without even a heads-up.
It’s no secret that physical changes are coming, and deep down, I know that. But some of these changes have zoomed in faster than Bruce Jenner sprinting in the 1976 Olympics. First up: chin hairs. I woke up one day to find my one cute chin hair from college had multiplied like rabbits. I looked like a goat! Can you imagine how much time I spend weekly managing these pesky hairs? Every time my husband walks into the bathroom, there I am, perched on the counter with a magnifying mirror and a pair of tweezers in hand. We like to call it foreplay.
And let’s not forget about the neck wrinkles that have started to appear. Seriously, how does that even happen? Is gravity trying to strangle me? Did my head suddenly gain weight? Is Richard Simmons addressing this issue in any of his workout DVDs? Or are we women just destined to age like trees, counting the rings hanging off our necks?
My hair seems to be packing its bags, too. I used to rock long, thick hair that was the envy of all. Now, it’s the only area of me that’s thinning. I even tried taking prenatal vitamins to fix it, which is great if you love being constipated. Maybe my hair has decided to head South for the winter—if my chin is the South, then I get it!
I used to be offended when someone would say, “You look great for having three kids; you must exercise.” That’s what I call a compliment sandwich—an insult dressed up with compliments, leaving me confused about whether to be flattered or offended. Why can’t I just “look good” without the caveat of age or motherhood? If you say, “You look good for 41,” you might just get a fist to your smooth, youthful throat.
But here’s the bright side: the perks of getting older definitely outweigh the wrinkle cream. I used to care so much about what people thought. I’d stress over unreturned calls or little snide comments. Oh no! Did I upset someone? Please like me! Now, as I’ve aged, I’m more comfortable in my skin and know the value I bring to my relationships. With the exception of my friends and family, I honestly don’t care what others think anymore. And wow, that’s a massive relief.
I embrace my quirks now. I’m an open book, brutally honest, and maybe a bit of an oversharer. That’s probably why my friends come to me for advice. There’s zero judgment here. Every single embarrassing story—Tinder texts, awkward rashes, or even that cringe-worthy moment during an intimate encounter—gets discussed and celebrated, usually over a good glass of wine.
In my younger days, I’d apologize for everything. Heaven forbid anyone was upset with me! But the middle-aged me? I only say sorry if I’m being a jerk. I won’t apologize for my unhealthy obsession with Nicolas Cage, for reading just the left page of a book at bedtime, or for taking a girls’ weekend trip every year until I die. Or until our spouses pass away, and we all end up living together like the Golden Girls. I’m definitely channeling my inner Blanche! And no, I’m not apologizing for my adventurous side when it comes to the nursing home escapades.
Taking risks has become my new norm. Playing it safe is just not my style anymore. I’ve jumped into writing and even signed up for my first marathon—even if I got outrun by a guy in his 60s sporting a shirt that said, “Ask me about Race Walking.” But you know what? I keep going. I walk around naked in front of my husband now. In the past, I’d have been worried about what he was thinking—”Does he see that dimple on my backside?” But now? He’s just thinking, “There’s a naked woman, let’s get it on.” And we do, without a thought to that dimple!
I’ve also become more protective of my time. I’ve learned its true worth. Just last week, my 11-year-old daughter asked me to whip up a dessert for her class party. I said, “I’ll happily grab something from Target in the morning.” She replied, “But all the other moms are making desserts!” I told her, “That’s awesome, but I work full-time and don’t have time right now.” To which she exclaimed, “Really, Mom, you’re just watching TV.” I responded, “Great observation! But for me, right now, it’s all about The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Also, can you pour me a glass of wine?”
Lastly, I’ve learned to laugh more and take things less seriously. Life has taught me that horrible things happen to good people. I’ve seen friends my age face tragedies like losing a spouse or battling cancer. Those experiences sharpen your focus on what really matters. Just the other day, my 9-year-old yelled, “Mom, Gavin pooped on the kitchen floor!” Sigh. Potty training fail, right? But then he added, “Never mind, the dog just ate it.” Problem solved, and I didn’t even have to put down my wine glass!
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Summary
Growing older comes with its share of physical changes, like chin hairs, neck wrinkles, and thinning hair. However, these changes also bring a newfound confidence and a sense of freedom. Embracing quirks, taking risks, and prioritizing what truly matters become the focus as we navigate through life’s ups and downs. With a lighter perspective, we can laugh at the little things while cherishing the important moments.