A friend sent me a message asking if I would participate in the latest social media challenge. All I had to do was post a black and white photograph of myself, tag her and nominate another woman to do the same. The purpose? To support, empower and celebrate women. Easy enough.
I could have chosen something from my vast selfie library, but I decided to take a new photo. And because I forgot to do the task last night, I did it first thing this morning, in bed.
With my phone resting between my feet I set the timer, lean into the frame, and pose. I take a half dozen shots, then proceed to scrutinize the hell out of them. I wince as I zoom in on my aging, freckled hands, crapy neck, and the wrinkles around my eyes.
I have always thought I was pretty comfortable in my skin. Until now. I suppose a recent milestone birthday hit me harder than I wanted to admit. I realize instead of aging gracefully, I’ve been putting up a fight. And that’s okay. But at some point I have to embrace my aging self, shower her with the love and respect she deserves. That’s empowering.
With a shift in attitude I take a closer look at my sixty year old self. This time I see strength, courage, wisdom and a heart filled with compassion, love and hope.
That is beauty.
And suddenly I could see it . . . all over my face.
It’s not the best picture I have ever taken, but it may be the truest.