The other day I found a grey hair. Like any normal human being it made me freak out a bit, as it was throwing into my face, I mean hair, the fact that I was not going to be a young thing forever. Unlike many girls nearing their thirties it does not make me really worry. Perhaps because my mother and grandmother have both aged very well. Perhaps because I was never obsessed by my looks (except the size of The Ass but that is independant from me as it has an identity of its own).
All these past years I have been in Serious Relationships and never worried about by Hook Up potential. I was always confident that the guys I was with liked me for me, not only my youthful looks.
Now that I am free and single again, of course I do feel looks will play a certain part in my future if I want to meet someone again, but then these days meeting someone is not so much of a priority. At the end of the day, if I end up living alone and Eaten By Alsacians (as Bridget Jones would put it), so be it. I have seen many women worry about ageing because:
Good Looks = Attracting Men = Happiness
Hence, once they age they become paranoid they lose their men and then they give into desperate measures like surgery. I would not want to fall into that trap. The other day one of my colleagues, who is a stunning Hong Kong beauty told me that she caught her image in the elevator mirror one day when she was laughing and realised laughing made her face wrinkled. So she was scared of laughing (!).
But there is one thing that is starting to bother me about time taking its toll on my body - it is not the face wrinkles (don't really have any except my worry wrinkle accross the forehead but I've had it since I was 12), not sagging boobs (they are too small to be subject to much law of gravity), or grey hairs (I pulled out the one I had). That one thing is: Under-arm Wrinkles! They appear just at the top of my arm pits where the skin folds when I have my arms by my side and I am pretty sure they were not here a few years ago.
Damn you Cruel Mother Nature!!