Give me the gray hair.
I’ll take the aches and pains of middle age.
I don’t mind the wrinkles…
I’ll think of my wrinkles as all the laughs I had over the years.
When I think of each of my gray hairs (and there are plenty) as a sunset I watched or a giggle from one of my kids, it’s not so bad to see so many.
Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s hard not to feel my mortality when I look in the mirror and see the wrinkles and gray hair, or when my back hurts for no good reason. It is a reminder of how young I no longer am.
But this is important to keep in mind: the only way to miss out on the wrinkles and gray hair and the aches and pains is to die young. I had a cousin who died when he was only 21 years old and sometimes I think of the things he missed out on because he died so young.
Sure, he’ll never tweak his back while brushing his teeth. He’ll never get bald. He won’t have to worry about whether or not to get that root canal.
But there is a lifetime of beautiful, incredible, awesome things he’ll also never experience.
As a working mom, it’s easy to get caught up in the daily grind and feel frustrated by the physical signs of aging. But each of those wrinkles, that gray hair, those aches and pains – they represent the beautiful life experiences you’ve had the privilege of living.
Recently I stopped dying my hair and I am anxiously awaiting when my hair shows all of my kids’ laughter to its fullest.
Rather than lamenting the march of time, I’m going to celebrate it.
If you need a little flip of the script and some perspective, a coach is a great starting point. Send me a message if you want to talk about how to embrace your own wrinkles as time marches on.