Sondra Artis

IT HAPPENED OVERNIGHT:
Fighting the Battle to Age Gracefully

One night I took my early 30-something looks to bed—and when I woke up … they were gone. Just like that! No gradual aging process. POW! Just like that … I looked older. (True, I’m no longer in my early 30s and haven’t been for a while—but that’s beside the point.) I’d become accustomed to not looking my age.

My skin, hair, and body had always been deceptively youthful. I always looked 10 years younger than I was. Gazing in the mirror that morning, I whispered,

“How could this happen so quickly?”

Suddenly, the veins beneath my eyes seemed so visible, the puffiness in the corners so apparent. My laugh lines looked more like crevices etched into my face; nothing funny about that.

Is this normal? Great disappointment settles on me and I am disillusioned. I get dressed for work. As I apply my makeup, my skin looks rough and uneven. For the first time in my life, I’m not confident in my appearance.

I head off to work, and all day long, at every opportunity, I steal a glance in the mirror. What could be mistaken for vanity is really disbelief.

Thoughts of using eye creams and skin treatments, and how to find my misplaced youthful appearance preempt my assignments for the workday. On the way home, I stop at a high-end department store and walk hurriedly to the cosmetics counter.

“Can you help me? I seem to have aged 10 years overnight,” I announce with a sense of desperation to the lady behind the counter. She smiles a knowing smile and says, “It does seem to happen that way.”

Few people want to look their age. It’s the curse of the new millennium. All day, every day, we are bombarded by infomercials, product offers, and news dedicated to looking younger. It’s fast becoming the Great American Obsession.

Many baby boomers, Generation Xers, and the like seem to have fallen prey to the idea of escaping the trap time sets for us all. In the process, we’ve unfortunately lost the wisdom that supposedly accompanies age. We purchase dermatologist-made, clinically tested, expensive topical potions—in an effort to beat back the lines and wrinkles.

Some of us are more aggressive in waging war—suffering injections and braving plastic surgery. The marvels of modern medicine have changed things and attitudes. Not so long ago, going under the knife—or laser—seemed drastic. Now it’s commonplace and affordable.

I leave the cosmetics counter discouraged. Discouraged … and carrying $200 worth of eye cream and skin firming serum.

At home, I study the new lines and the new discoloration in the mirror and I am seriously bummed about this. With a deep sigh, I use my new products before bed. I wonder, “Will this … aging thing … be gone when I wake up in the morning?” Another sigh; probably not.

I awake the next morning. My face feels softer, but the mirror will tell the truth: I see no change. I now recollect that, as of late, young men don’t talk to me much any more, and when they do—some of them address me as “Ma’am.”

I’m also reminded of an incident five years ago when a couple of men had whistled loudly at me as I walked down the street. I was indignant and expressed my offense to a woman in her sixties. She said, “Honey, enjoy it … because it won’t last forever.”

How sad. How true. It’s also true that youth really is wasted on the young.

It’s a lot to take in, but I believe I’ve gained new insight and a fresh perspective. While I am a 21st-century Ponce de Leon—searching for the fountain of youth, I’ve decided on a balanced approach. I’ll address it with proper nutrition, exercise, targeted supplements, topical creams, and prayer. “Prayer?” you ask.

Again what might be mistaken for vanity is not. I pray the Almighty will imbue me with the appropriate measure of wisdom in all things that comes with a woman my age. I also pray He’ll always bring to my remembrance that aging is not a curse, but rather a privilege and a blessing.