There are days where I am in front of myself, without really seeing. Perhaps to truly look would result in the evidence of depredation of time, eroding my physical body ever so slowly that I am caught by surprise but the seemingly sudden changes.
Oh this is new, I say to myself, when dark spots caused by the sun, sprinkle unkindly across my face. And I'm, then, drawn to the extra flesh around my arms, or the double chin I'm spotting. I notice my body resembles that pear which I have seen on OTHER women with unbidden unkind thoughts, but no, that's me. in the mirror. Eyes travel, slower with the slightest touch of repulsion and despair, over the lines round the neck where it was gloriously smooth a decade ago and then hands start to wander, inspect. A decade ago, when my skin was like a fresh fruit, tangy, smooth, plumb instead of the slightly over-ripened touch of coarse grains, and the commencement of leather.
And in memory, my skin and body used to illicit such desire from lovers and in turn pleasure for us both.
But on other days, my eyes carry such joy - captured by a random shot and on display for myself to see -for who, truly smiles in genuine joy or laughs with abandon, in front of the mirror on their own. Another frame displays movement - graceful - to my amusement. That's me. Really? So this is how I am seen through love, my friends' eyes, a kinder, changed but no less lovely version of myself.
I remind myself, embrace. Embrace all and be at peace.