Ageing

I really don't want to be dull and boring. I always liked the look of that wife on that BBC show with the crazy hair and bright clothes, bright lippy while her hubby (the dentist) was always in navy. Dull. So when I actually saw a grey hair peeping out, the realisation that I was no longer a 25 year old hit me, I grabbed a bottle of chestnut, just like I did when I was 25, because the slabs of colour just didn't cut it anymore. Then I threw on the bright dark red lippy - everyday.


Then I looked in the mirror.


Now I really did look like a middle-aged woman. What I could do in my 20's suddenly looks crap in my ... ahem... later years. Like mutton dressed up as lamb, literally. Now, how to be a not so dowdy ... more mature person with a younger attitude with looking like a dick. Suddenly all I could see around me was all my friends looking old. I whistled too much in my life time, so too many lip wrinkles, and smiled too much, so eye wrinkles, and the bit under my chin - everyone had that problem - it was dropping. Bags under our eyes. We were no longer as fresh as daisies.

Would I have it any other way? Not smile? No. Not whistle? No thank you, many hours spent whistling my time way. The bags under my eyes, well, they are the sign of the many things that I do, the children, the stresses, the happiness's, the late nights, the forgotten glasses of water... change it ... botox it ... NO WAY! I am what I am. Aged and me. Greying and wrinkly. Laughing, crying and frowning. Sunspots and freckles. Take me as I am because inside me I am still that 25 year old with a bunch more experience.