This month, I turn 33. And once I do, I’m sure it will take me six months to remember. Does anyone else pause for an awkward amount of time when someone asks you how old you are? And, who are these people asking that question anyway? Regardless, assuming I can remember, I’m completely OK with telling you. I’m a realist. The reality is that we are aging. Oh, the ‘a’ word. What comes with that, in the context of beauty, is anti-aging marketing everywhere you go. Erase those fine lines! Fight wrinkles before they ruin your life. Battle dark circles you tired-looking old person. Quick, cover up those dark spots. Oh, for the love of drama.
Every birthday brings way more than just a number I can’t remember. We’re wiser, more insightful and more connected with who we are. How can anyone be “anti” that?
I’m all for preserving a youthful glow and SPF is my ride or die, but I’m fully supportive of adding years if it means I’m happier at soon-to-be 33 than I ever was at 26. Whether I like it or not, that line forming in my forehead is because I smile so damn much. The joy I feel in my heart and the passion I have for experiencing life far surpasses any anxiety I might have over wrinkles. Bring it, 33.
There’s more on this topic over at Clementine Daily! Check out my recs for anti anti-aging skincare that is nature-powered and pro being awesome at any age.