True Beauty:

The Standard Bangkok Plastic Surgery Hand Mirror

Image by Jessica E Sideways via Flickr

Today is my birthday. If my readers do not mind, I reserve the right to step away from homeschooling and reflect and ramble, which I do rather well.

I reached the peak of 40 and am now leaning over the edge. Some say, “It’s all downhill from here.” I say from the slope, there’s a beautiful view.

I had lunch today with two of my dearest friends who are hanging from the root sticking out the side of the mountain. I am waving to them, “Hello girls I’m up here!”  If you are not getting the metaphor, they are older. I wish I could see their faces as they read this. (snicker snicker)

I love the fact they’re older. They are the ones I will go to whenever I need advice. During our lunches, we tend to somehow find a deep subject to discuss. Today, one of the topics fell on true beauty. What is true beauty?

These women are true beauties.Yvonne, whom I’ve known for years, would hold my hands through prison bars, and love me, if I killed someone. You cannot put a price on that. She has these green eyes that twinkle one minute and tear up just as fast. She is beautiful, and she is the one woman, anytime someone says her name, I smile. For, she was my first true friend, when I moved to Orlando.

The other one, Debbie is a new friend. Someone whom I am getting to know layer by layer, like peeling an onion. There are all these interesting things about her. Tomorrow she turns 46, and she looks like Cher, without the plastic surgery. Both of these women are beautiful, but it is not their outward beauty I find so appealing. It is the knowledge, experiences, and wisdom within them. I am drawn to them like a magnet.

I have a theory about life as women. Our 20’s are about discovering who God made us to be. Our 30’s are about surrendering to who God made us to be, and our 40’s are about enjoying who God made us to be.

Our 20’s are all about us, working long hours on careers, worrying over our check account balances, making tons of mistakes, and having plenty of awkward first dates. Most of those ended with me waving from the doorway with my cat in my arms. A trick I used to prevent the kiss. Twenties are a time of finding out who you are, and what you want in a mate.

At 29 years old, I found the one, and when he asked me to marry him, he’d already made the reservation for our wedding. I like a man who takes the bull by the horns…did I just call myself a bull?

Our 30’s brings a time of surrender. We have to surrender ourselves to motherhood. No longer, can we jump in the car and go wherever we want, without packing the baby and the kitchen sink. No longer, do we eat without making sure they are fed first. The days we fight it, and scream, “I’m tired what about me?” Are the days, we are miserable. The days we surrender to motherhood, are the days that are beautiful.

Although, I am at the beginning of my 40’s, I am determined to enjoy these years.  I gained a few pounds lately, and doggone it, I’ve earned the right to put away the skinny jeans. Notice, I didn’t say I broke out the Momma jeans..well, not yet.

I am determined not to stress away my 40’s over Botox, sagging boobs, and cellulite removal. I’m not against these things, I just refuse to walk around with a smile like the joker, and a shelf in front of me large enough to hold drinks on…hmmm..could be useful for laundry.

I’m unwilling to feel ugly because I have a line between my eyes. That wrinkle becomes useful when my boys step out of line. How are they going to know when they’re in trouble? Besides, who wants a face that won’t budge when overcome by hysterics?

What say you? Let’s open the topic for comments. You are welcome to post your comment on the blog.

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