Obsessed with the Fountain of Youth

From television advertisements to an entire article in the most recent issue of O Magazine, I feel bombarded by our society's obsession with defying everyone's reality: aging. If it's not a special cream infused with water from the Swiss Alps that will keep your eyes wide open (to avoid crows feet of course) 24/7, it's a bottle of purplish-green juice you can drink to keep your skin looking the way it did at birth even if you are 85 years old and have chain smoked since you took your first breath. Or worse yet, in my opinion, going under the knife or needle to remove any evidence that you survived puberty, all-nighter's binge-drinking (er studying) until dawn, or your son's terrible two's.

What's wrong with looking like a normal 25, 35, 45, or 55 (oh my!) year old woman or man? What's wrong with going with the natural flow and getting in where you fit in in the circle of life and not looking like a 12 year old at your youngest child's college graduation? I read an article that asked why so many women look 10 years younger but their necks and chests read an entirely different birth certificate. Hilarious. I find myself, more so lately, looking closer at the corners of my eyes, the creases made near my nose when I smile or laugh and wonder if my eyelids will droop significantly as I age.

I can relate to the surgery thing, in a way. Sure, I had nice, perky twins filling my bra after my breast reduction (yeppers!). Although I got plenty of looks, a 38F was not what I wanted attention for. I had ho-hum boobs, my nipples stared at the floor and seemed to say "ho-hum". But mine wasn't solely a decision based on vanity, I had other issues that made it medically necessary. It's one thing to go under the knife for huge balloon-like boobs, but entirely different if your 38Es smother you when you're sleeping on your back. Regardless, vanity steps in and after having birthed two children I realize I should have waited until after Nas was born to have the surgery...now the nips salute the morning sun from a much lower point than before. Ugh. I guess I should have worried more about the twins drooping than my eyelids!

Age is the only way to fill your memory's photo album, so why worry about something that tells the world that you've been there, done that and survived? Plus, how many face lifts have you seen that make the person look better and not scary? Yeah, not many! Age is inevitable so wear it with pride. When you see crows feet gracing my eyes, know that I have spent a lot of my life laughing with my husband and smiling at my babies. Why would you ever want to erase that?