Accepting the Face in the Mirror

I was in my early 50s when I went to South Korea to visit my daughter who was teaching English at Yeugnam University in Taegu. 

We were invited to the home of the head of her department and served soju, a drink guaranteed to make you believe you’re the smartest primate on the planet until you try to stand up. I focused all my concentration on walking a straight line to their car, trying not to embarrass myself or my daughter, and we were whisked away to a famous fish restaurant for dinner.

Blowfish is poisonous. It must be expertly prepared for consumption so as not to prove lethal. We were seated on cushions on the floor in a private room at a table that appeared to be far too large for the four of us until the food started coming. Our honorable host had ordered in advance. We had raw blowfish soup, blowfish tempura, and blowfish sashimi. That aquatic menace was also served to us steamed and deep-fried. But the ultimate test, the one I willed my stomach not to reject, was blowfish skin salad.

Of course, there were side dishes, too many to count, and every morsel on that table was offered to me. I’d done my homework on cultural dos and don’ts and knew better than to decline. Throughout a sleepless night, my stomach gurgled and churned but I survived. The next day we were scheduled for lunch with one of the students my daughter tutored.

The Importance of Appearance

The girl’s mother was 39 and stunning. Her skin had the flawless perfection of an airbrushed photograph. We were barely seated in the restaurant when she began a conversation about the importance of appearance. I was shocked to learn that she had already had multiple cosmetic surgeries. She turned to me and frowned. “You should, too,” she said.

I may have stammered a response, but my internal dialogue was far more memorable. Who? Me? People are surprised when I tell them my age. They think I’m ten years younger. I like the crinkles around my eyes and the laugh lines. Cosmetic surgery? Really? Never!

I have no clue what we had for lunch.

The Face Is What the World Sees and Judges

We learn early on how to smile at the appropriate times, regulate the emotions that want to contort our features, apply enhancements to accentuate the positive whether it be mascara to showcase exotic eyes, or lipstick. 

As years passed, I didn’t give that episode much thought other than a story now and then to entertain friends. 

But now, when I look in the mirror, the person who stares back is almost a stranger to me. After 60, changes happen fast. The body can be dressed, disguised, and hidden. But there seems to be no way to mentally prepare for the way time morphs a face. 

In the remote farming community where I’ve come to retire, I’m surrounded by an elderly population. Creased and leathery from hard work in all kinds of weather, any exposed skin wears age like a badge of honor. No one would dream of going under the knife to chase youth. But what if I worked in a metropolitan area? What if I still had my interior design studio and high-profile clients? How tempted would I be to erase the ravages of time as much as possible? 

Changes Are Inevitable and Accepting Them Is Freeing

I admire women who are still going strong in the workplace well into their 60s and 70s. Whatever they decide to do to retain their power and vitality in a social system where youth is deified, is a decision only they can make. I can’t say for certain what I would do if I were competing with women half my age for a position in the job market.

But, at some point, isn’t it time to relax, take off the mask, and embody who we have become? I’ve found immense freedom in being exactly who I am, saying what I mean, and doing what I want without worrying about what all that looks like. I’ve come to terms with the unglamorous transformations happening to my body, and I’ve (somewhat grudgingly) accepted the time-worn face in my mirror. 

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Who do you see when you look in the mirror? Have you come to accept the wrinkles and lines? Or have you decided to go the plastic surgery route? Is there wisdom in either choice?