Take One Face and Iron Carefully

Posted on September 9, 2010


Driving back from work today, I did something which I often do and especially because I get a lot of thinking time when I’m driving (which isn’t always a good thing because before I got this blog I would quite often have a conversation with myself in the car, yes I do look like the nutter talking to herself but hey there’s a lot of worse things that happen on the roads than me putting my own world to right by myself). 
Anyway back to what I did, I often make up silly rhymes or poems just to pass the time, especially when my iPod has out synced itself from my radio for the 130th time and there’s nothing else decent to listen to.  Well today I made up one that went a bit like this (they come and go so quickly unless I can write them down they don’t always come back quite the same, and writing a poem down when you’re doing 70mph on the M1 is not a good idea): 
Who’s that girl staring back in the mirror, staring back at me?
There’s a vague recollection of something familiar, but I can’t really see
The lines on her face tell their own kind of story and one that will never be revealed
The shine in her eyes long gone has faded but the sparkle just can’t be healed
She looks like she wants to say something but her smile is etched with pain
Her lips so tightly pursed together are holding back the shame 
And then I thought whoa! Wait a minute, depressing much!  I was still driving but you can imagine this earth shattering moment of me slamming on the brakes, getting out of the car on the motorway and giving myself a good old kick up the caboose, but it did get me thinking.  Not about all the shame as my shame is probably funnier than anything, given how clumsy I am at the most inopportune moments like falling on my butt in the middle of an ultra funky dance move and splaying myself across the dance floor.  Yes just give me loads of room especially if I’m wearing killer heels.   
What it got me thinking about, is how different I feel to how I look when I look in the mirror.  I’m 23 plus a teenager 😛  yes I’m 36 and I don’t feel a day over 18.  Unfortunately time is not being kind anymore and I’m starting to see the signs that send most women over to Botox boot camp screaming for the nectar of youth plus the added bonus of losing all feeling in their face and smiling forever like this: 
It also got me thinking about how when I look in the mirror I don’t always recognise myself, now that sounds weird but in my rambling poem I can actually relate to it.  There are days when I look in the mirror and pretty much freak myself out by what is staring back at me (warning don’t invite me for a sleep over unless you are preparing for Halloween) so when did my transition from youthful looking girl to getting baggy faced woman suddenly take place? I didn’t notice it happening, or maybe I’ve been too preoccupied with running around like a headless chicken and making sure I’ve not got spinach in my teeth to notice.  
Well, regardless of when it happened, I’m lucky enough that if I can scare myself, I can also laugh at myself plus I can start having foundation delivered by the cement mixer if all else fails 🙂   
I have already decided not to grow old gracefully, I don’t do diets to lose weight and I don’t think I’ll ever be brave/stupid enough to go for plastic surgery.  I do get moments when I want to feel better about myself because I’m having a fat day or an I just hate myself day but then I can go hug my shoes (read my post on shoes if you don’t get that one 🙂 ) or my boyfriend. 
At the end of the day every laughter line and wrinkle that appears on my face will tell a thousand stories and ones that if I’m ever lucky enough to have grand children; I can share with them and for the ones that aren’t suitable I can and will reminisce over with my friends x