Growing Old

I just came back from a photo shoot that I did as a favour to someone. 

Obviously I did not hide my Greys, nor my age. Once it was done, the people there asked me, hesitantly, if I was ok with the look being called, Makeup for Mature Skin. 

Well.

I was stumped. 

Mature. Me? No!

Mature. My skin? Oh sure! 

Because those are 2 different things. 

 I am certainly not as old in my heart as my face is. I see new wrinkles every year and I honestly don’t care. For the longest time, as a child, I was obsessed with laugh lines. I wanted them! Bad! 

To me, it meant that one had a great sense of humour and one was generally happy. I don’t think I had developed a sense of humour at that age and I sure as Hell wasn’t happy. So laugh lines for me were elusive.

 

I have them now and I love them! It says I have a great sense of humor and I am truly happy ☺️

But maturity? That’s a whole another story for another day. 

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