Let's talk numbers: 2025...

The fun part of being a "New Year's Baby" is that you start each year another year older. During the childhood years, it's exciting! Getting to the age 16 and being able to drive, reaching 18 now being in charge of yourself, looking into the future is a wonderfully exciting exercise! I loved New Years Eve counting down to the new year..."3, 2, 1 Happy New Year!" Then switching to "Happy Birthday"! It was fun, it was exciting, it was joyful.

In my 20's and 30's there were so many statements I made about what I would and would not do as I got older. I have been determined to fight against the "aging attitudes" and my perception of what they were. I was never going to "let myself go" which meant I was never going to stop doing my makeup, wearing cute clothes, doing my hair in fun styles and colors. I was going to keep my hair long because long was more "youthful" in my mind. Yes, I was more focused on the external parts of me in my 20's and 30's, but who isn't? That's the more physical part of our lives. In my 40's I started to think more about my internal self and what I wanted to "hold on to" as I aged. I wanted to be that "interesting, eclectic, old woman" not the "bitter, angry, avoid at all costs old woman".

Then my 50's came and I started to experience so many changes in my body. I started to see real aging everywhere! My face, my legs, my arms, my energy, my focus. Everything was changing and I hated it all. Because I took custody of a 2 year old and a preemie baby in my 50th year, I became very busy during those first years and while I noticed every wrinkle and every change, I didn't have the time nor the bandwidth to give it much consideration. I noticed it every morning in the mirror, then I pushed it all aside because the littles in my house demanded my attention. My wardrobe changed and became more comfortable so I could carry the kids easier. The waistbands of my jeans changed as my own expanded. My tops became looser as did the skin around my knees and neck. I'm blessed to have a hair dresser as a sister, so my hair routine was easier to maintain but as the gray hair was expanding, keeping the line hidden was getting more demanding and harder to find time to complete. My earlier "I'm never going to let myself go" proclamation was becoming a whisper within me as life was taking me on a path I had never imagined. I had moments of questioning how I was going to "age gracefully", but then the kids needed something and I moved into action and let the thoughts fade into the background as I tackled my daily routines. As those thoughts faded, I made a commitment to myself to find a way to love myself at every stage of my life. I was still committed to finding the way to enjoy my life in my later years because I knew it was a gift and I was going to find a way to be grateful for it.

God has granted me a few wonderful blessings over these past few years that I didn't see coming. He has taught me a few things about taking care of myself that has given me more energy, which has given me the ability to reconsider what aging is to me. Also, my little ones are getting not so little anymore, and my bandwidth to focus on other things has improved. I've started questioning all my earlier beliefs and I've made some adjustments, as I am sure all of us do. Life is an amazing teacher! So what adjustments have I made?

1) My hair doesn't define me, my attitude does!

I was absolutely determined to never let my hair go gray. In fact, I've said it out loud many times! Why, when we have hair dye, would we ever go gray? Well, I have a new question - why wouldn't we? Right before COVID hit, I started to see young women dying their hair different shades of silver and gray. It was stunning! I loved the pictures and then asked myself "why do we act like silver and gray hair is "bad"? Who said that? Men can look extremely handsome and distinguished in their gray, salt and peppered locks. Who said women could only look old and frumpy? Who wrote that narrative? And was it true? The newly pictured silver and gray haired beauties punctured that myth completely. They were all over the internet because I looked and saw them. Silver and gray can be as beautiful, distinctive, creative and fun as any other hair color on a woman! So I decided to see if I liked it myself. Why not? Worse case scenario is that I would not like it and then I could dye my hair back to it's earlier brunette tones, if I wanted to.

So I let my hair go gray and as I did, I thought I'll keep the length and be a long haired, gray haired woman. The length would give it a more youthful, flowy feeling and I was way more comfortable in that. Long and gray was my new adventure and I was owning it. Why not be gray? We get to choose and it was freeing once I allowed myself to let go of my 30 year old beliefs and attitudes. I was free to start seeing myself in different ways, once I let go of all those anti-aging, the only thing that is beautiful is youth ideals and start considering that beauty can be found in all ages, all colors, all shapes. Who said the only beautiful woman was a young one? (every TV ad, magazine, etc!) I was surrounded by beautiful women in all their ages - 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's and the lucky few 90's! Beauty can and is found in all the faces of the women I see every day and that is and will always be true. It is now my truth, which is very beneficial to me because I am now one of the "OLD" ones. And before you correct me by saying "you're not old, you're still young", please don't. Let's all agree it is good to get old and we do NOT have to act like saying we are old is a bad word. It isn't, it is a simple fact of the number of years we have been on the earth. Let's remove the judgement from the word and take it as a blessing! Old and young are both great! Which one you are is a simple mathematical representation of the number of days you have been alive.

A day arrived this year that many women have had to face, it was a day my sister was going to face. She was starting chemotherapy to attack the breast cancer that had reappeared. Yes, it's that same sister that has been my beloved hair dresser for decades. The one that had held many locks of hair in her fingers as she skillfully modified our styles, color and textures to highlight our facial features and create the looks we demanded from her as we sat in her stylist chair. She knows hair. And she was going to lose hers. How could we support her? What could we do? We could love her, sit with her and do our best to not overwhelm her with our emotions as she fortified herself to withstand all that was in front of her. Then one day, her twin said that they we going to cut their hair shorter in preparation for the chemo hair loss that was surely to come. It was the nudge I needed because I had been secretly debating whether I had the guts to cut my hair short. As the thought of my sister losing her hair washed over me, I knew I could be brave enough to try short hair as she was braving the battle of her life. All my sisters gathered to cut their hair, each to their own comfort and liking. It wasn't necessarily a joyous day for my sister who would soon lose it all, but it was a day where we said some truths out loud to ourselves and each other. While it is true our hair doesn't define us, we love our hair. We have used it to create a sense of ourselves, to highlight who we see we are, if we are feeling soft and lengthy or short and spunky. I could see in my sister the complexity of her emotions and while I couldn't take all that away from her, she wasn't facing them alone. She had all of her sisters with her and we each took a moment to address all things "hair" related. It wouldn't take the pain out her experience but it was the best we could do and I believe it reduced the sting just a little bit. I have lived in my short hair for a few months now and I have felt a new me emerge. One less bound by long locks and one more free to feel the breeze on the back of my neck. And every now and again, my husband will gently kiss that same spot and I think to myself "short hair is the best"!

In 2025, I turned 62. What is in that number? Only God knows what this year will bring but I know I see things differently now that I am in the 60's. My hair isn't brown and long. It's gray and short. My waist isn't the same shape, my face looks completely unrecognizable as I do my makeup each day. I haven't stopped using color to highlight my cheeks, eyes and lips. I doubt I'll every change that, but at this point, I will never say never! I'm grateful to have found a way to love myself as I age. As my body changes, I find new ways to love what I see and do you know why? Because it is with each line, each change, I feel my soul rising into a new joy. What I couldn't imagine in my 20's and 30's was how the inside of me was growing and changing too. My soul was growing in light, in wisdom, in confidence, in love. All those years that have been lived and are behind me, lift my soul in amazing ways and there is not 1 day I would give up. I want to be 62 so that I can feel all the love I feel. I am beginning to understand the phrase "I wouldn't take nothing for my journey now".

Here's to us all finding the joy in the days before us and letting our bodies change as they must. Yes, I am actively working to find health for my body so it can sustain me for years to come and yes, I will always look for ways to present myself in creative, colorful and beautiful ways but that word has changed in meaning as I too have changed. Beauty is definitely in the eye of the beholder and as I look to discover and define that for myself, I remember who MY creator is. And in His eyes, I will try to see myself and when I do that, I know I will see all of you through His eyes too. And with those eyes, we will all create more love and with more love, there is always more beauty.

My hair has changed, but some things don't change....like my love of music. An older version of me is still loving Neil Diamond and we traveled to see the Broadway musical about his life in my 60th year. God has been good to me! The other picture is my shorter haired version. She's sporting more wrinkles but so grateful for the love that surrounds her.

As I contemplate what is beautiful, I am blessed to be surrounded by beautiful women. The most perfect representation of the idea of beauty sits within this picture. The background is the MET Museum in NYC. My sisters, our mother and I traveled there for my 60th birthday celebration. The museum is filled with representations of what we have deemed beautiful. But what is more stunning is the women in the foreground. These 4 beautiful women show me every day, in so many ways, what it means to be truly beautiful. Their love, their strength, the way they create their lives is the epitome of beauty and I am blessed to be able to bear witness of it daily. God has blessed me by surrounding me with such beautiful creatures, inside and out!