Each time I do outfit photos I have to set up the tripod. No photo is the same because I have to move some furniture out of the way to set up the tripod and then take few shots. After taking a few for today I had gotten some full photos and seeing my face in them had me thinking: WHAT HAPPENED TO ME? I LOOK SO OLD! The lighting wasn’t flattering to my skin tone or the angle it was on my face. I haven’t washed my face or done my hair yet today. I have epic bedhead because of how I sleep and my hair is extremely short, so it spikes up in odd places and looks like something tried to nest in it – for a week. But more than that, my face. The lines, the creases, the dark under eye circles…. “My poor husband” is all I could think. He’s 9 years younger than me. We started dating when he was barely 20. I’m not one to base my looks on others’ opinions, but if there is someone who I do make the effort for and want to look nice for – it’s my husband. So getting older and it starting to show is something I’ve always struggled with.
I might sound shallow and narcissistic for saying this, but when I was younger I was always told how beautiful I am. In college, “Jen has the perfect body” was a common refrain among my friends. I won’t deny some of it went to my head. Vanity is unavoidable. Everyone likes being told they are beautiful and given compliments. This was before my metabolism went *poof- bye-bye* and before my skin tone became sallow (thanks genes from my mother’s side) and the lines showed up on my forehead and around the edges of my mouth. Knowing I am getting older and these symptoms will only get worse with age sucker punches me in the gut emotionally. For the longest time I was even told I look ten years younger than I really am, but I’ve not been hearing that as often as I used to. This sounds so terrible to admit, or is it? I’m being brutally honest with myself here – not hearing things I’ve always heard in the past has had some affect on me now that I’ve noticed the silence.
I am trying to keep myself in shape – or rather, get myself back into shape. During my 30s I ballooned out a bit and now have The Roll around my stomach that is so hard to get rid of. The weight is down – that part is done, but reshaping the body is a whole different matter. Part of me wonders if wearing skinny low-rise jeans exacerbated the problem. Is there any research on that? You know, muffin top syndrome? I totally had it.
This is not at all what the title of this post was supposed to be about! I had originally meant I’m making more of an effort to take care of my clothes and to get dressed on the weekends when I know I’m not doing anything (like today) and it somehow devolved into some seriously depressing, navel-gazing pity party about aging!