Happy Birthday to Me

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(Most amazing birthday cake EVER from my best friend Sarasai for my 40th) Yes those are handmade penis butterflies.)

I’ll be honest. There are days when I feel beautiful, or rather full of beauty. As in, the  Beauty Way. On these days, my heart is full of gratitude. I am simply thankful to be alive and I count my blessings to have my family, and my health.  I am very fortunate with who I get to call friend: from my Uncle Jake, a decorated war hero and road man, to my incredible “relatives” from my church, to amazing co-workers, and old and new soul sisters and brothers, to my loving husband and children. I am still close with my mother and sister who live nearby.

But I AM A WOMAN.

And so despite the fact I do pretty well on those spirituality check off lists, I have my good and my bad days.I have been posting photos of myself when I was younger on Facebook lately. I’ve never really considered myself super pretty or anything but now looking back from 42, I’m like WOW, I looked pretty good. And so when I look in the mirror , it is not with disdain, but kind of like humph? wha happened? Maybe I would have taken better care of my skin! I realize that the physical beauty of youth is replaced by the inner beauty of wisdom and compassion. I’ll never be twenty again. Tomorrow I turn 42. While it IS shocking what has happened to my chin and how my legs never got any bigger than they were at 16…and my stomach did..why I will shamelessly becry my lost youth by remembering it outloud, while I still have my days and or nights of insecurity…In this moment, I have the whole world and everything good within it. Apparently I was struggling with growing older 5 years ago, I possibly will again 5, 10 years from now, and God willing for the next 50 decades!!  Celebrate what is here NOW. That is my advice to myself and all of you.

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“growing Older”
 or
 “Comedy Act.. verging on a Poem”
retitled
 “True Comedy Act..Verging on A Poem”
 I was never gorgeous,
pretty yes
but beautiful and dish
fell short of my hearing.
Not that I was lacking in allure;
an unslighty lass disregarding
is simply left disregarded.
But a fair maiden
whose eyes are only
set on books or nature,
she leaves men pining while
she’s under leaves and pines.
Perhaps I stole a heart or two.
I did manage
to find myself in a painting,
a song, a sculpture even
erected.
I attracted those to whom I was attracted
or was it the other way around?
Somehow, thoughts
of my prettiness
never occurred to me,
until now,
all the sudden
WHAM!
My nipples are no longer
standing at attention;
the last suckles from my babe’s mouth
left them longing for my toes.
My white hairs
are playing both defense and offense
 and my chins,
they are the ones that alerted me.
How does one go from two to six
without noticing?!
This is all my husband’s fault.
He was there for the transformation.
And saying things like,
“I like your little belly”
or “Just wait until you get to
be my age”
never inspired me to hit the gym.
I admit, I am slim for 37.
Yet soft, buttery even,
for a former track star.
Okay, so I haven’t run
in over twenty years,
butt, I did once have the nickname
buns o steel.
Last summer,
my neighbor came over to congratulate me.
He saw my “”bump””
while I was out gardening.
I wasn’t pregnant.
Despite the changes,
I feel much more than gorgeous.
I choose mother nature as my mirror.
Adjectives such as supple, hairy, wrinkled
delight my explanation.
One day I will reach
my very own winter
the skin, the bones, the memories
abandoned for white expanse…
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One Comment on “Happy Birthday to Me

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