Wrinkles

Just the other day I noticed wrinkles on my forehead. Fine lines reminding me that there is no turning back, signifying that my fate is sealed. Now, I don't know at what age most ladies begin to see forehead wrinkles, but I am only 26 and I know at this time last year they were not there. I can only see that they are there to stay when I relax the muscles in my face, but they are there nonetheless. So where did they come from? After pondering which facial expression is most responsible for leaving its permanent mark on my countenance, I have concluded it is the tense, raised eyebrows of angst. I am always mentally bracing for whichever derogatory comment or look of disgust or disappointment is headed my direction next. I have never been fond of myself. Throughout my adolescence it took antidepressants to break me of my self-effacing, self-loathing ways. Those were the days, also, when I could not have cared less what people thought of me. Now, though, I feel as if I am being judged in every aspect of my life… AND I care. I am always trying to figure out what I can do so that people will see me differently, so they will respect me, be proud of me, and most of all love me. What do I have to do? Who do I have to be?

Enter Epiphany: I have to be the best me I can be, because happiness will not come to me until I am. One cannot exude happiness, until, internally, truly happy. If people are going to respect me, I need to respect myself. If people are to be proud, then I need to make myself proud. And if people are ever going to love me, I have to learn to love myself… for who I am. I have vowed to travel down the road of happiness until I reach that destination. The people who are there waiting for me will be the ones who matter anyway. As far as the wrinkles go, I think I'd rather deal with them than the reason they're there in the first place.

--JLB