Approaching my mid-forties, life looks pretty different from those carefree days of being twenty-something. Back then, mornings were often about recovering from last night’s adventures, rushing through a busy city, and making sure I looked perfectly put together before stepping out. But those days have gradually given way to a different kind of rhythm, one that’s less about looking perfect and more about feeling genuine.

I’ve always been the kind of person who didn’t care much about what others thought, but I spent time making sure I looked the part of being put together. I’d load up on makeup, experiment with quirky hairstyles, keep that sun-kissed glow, and of course, accessorize to the nines.

As I’ve gotten older, my approach to self-care has shifted. It’s not so much about maintaining an image, but more about savoring the simple things. Like driving around during sunset and soaking in the beauty of fields stretching to the horizon. Or taking a warm shower before bed and slipping into clean sheets – talk about comfort! I find solace in quiet hikes, indulging in a delicious croque monsieur from the local artsy food market, and spending quality time with loved ones.

Looking in the mirror now, I see more than just lines and spots. I see stories etched on my face – tales of perseverance, tough times, moments of grace, and acts of kindness. Those furrows on my forehead? They’re deeper now, but each line holds a memory. Those freckles and sunspots? They’re like souvenirs from years of adventures.

Sure, there are days when I wake up with puffy eyes or dark circles, and my hair has a mind of its own, but there’s a spark in my eyes that’s undeniable. The days have been long, some exhausting, but I feel renewed, my silver hair dancing around my face like a crown of wisdom. In this phase of getting older, I’ve discovered a sense of peace, resilience, and pride that comes from within. I’ve shed the need to hide who I am or how many years I’ve lived – these lines and wrinkles are like a roadmap, guiding me toward my future self. I’m embracing what’s to come with open arms – the raw, imperfect beauty of it all.