Oh, aging...how I loathe you.

There was a point, a very long time ago, when I decided I would grow old gracefully. I would let my body take it natural course, going grey and wrinkling as it pleased. I would proudly show off my sagging chin, chest, stomach, knees and ankles. Openly flaunt my ever growing collection of crows feet and stretch marks! I was maybe all of 20 years old when I had this epiphany. Remember 20? Back when we knew everything? Yeah.

As I sit here a much more knowledgeable 31, I realise that I had much different ideas about what "gracefully" meant back then than I do now! I still plan on growing old, it's just that I will more than likely be doing so with a little help.

I find it incredible how a body can change in what seems like such a short time. One day you're 25, a little bit spongy around the mid-section, but still filling out your jeans and t-shirt rather nicely. The next day, you're jamming yourself into whatever (yoga) pants manage to give you the smallest muffin top, while trying to find that bra that makes your mom cakes resemble a passable pair of boobs. Did I mention the whiskers that seemingly pop out of NO WHERE! While I am fully aware of just how alluring this doesn't make me, I have to be true to all of the other whisker sporting ladies out there. They literally sneak up on you. I remember finding my first one, thinking it was simply a misplaced strand from my head, until I pulled on it. Horror of all horrors. I think next to stray nipple hairs, these may be the most traumatising. Nothing says sexy, mature woman like horse hair growing out of your chins. 

Moving along, those silver roots popping out of my noggin can kiss my saggy butt! When a small, sweet little old lady felt the need to utter the words,  "My, you sure have a lot of snow on the roof!", I came to terms with the fact that, a) I am not prepared to go grey gracefully in my early 30's and, b) some sweet little old ladies are actually ass holes. Dye job you are long overdue! 

Don't get me wrong though. while I can live without chin stubble and snowy white locks, I wouldn't change my wrinkles or stretch marks for the world. One thing I had right in my all knowing 20's was the fact that these things would forever let people have a small glimpse at the fullness of my life. Every line on my face and  long gash up my hip and stomach would tell tales of my joy and accomplishments. So instead of gracefully, I choose to grow old comfortably. I may be wearing Spanx under my yoga pants, with a plucked face and obviously colored hair, but I will be smiling the whole way! 

*Photo Credit to The Frisky