I want to celebrate aging. I’m 47 years old, and I want to embrace the signs of age—freedom to be in this face and this body.
I want to get off the treadmill of comparisons and celebrate the life I have, not some idealized version of me that has never been true or satisfying anyway.
And it is also for our daughters. I just read an essay by Jia Tolentino about living in an era that tells little girls they need to spend hundreds of dollars at Sephora in order to be beautiful. I want our daughters to receive their own beauty—and the beauty of everyone around them. I want them to see aging as a gift, a journey towards wisdom and compassion, for ourselves and for others. I want them to see their own faces and hair and bodies as good gifts both now and as they grow up.
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MORE WITH AMY JULIA:
- How Politicians Talk About Disability Matters
- The Good Life Belongs to the Ones who are Unimportant and Overlooked
- Chapter 3: Beauty
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