The trouble with youth is that we think we will be young forever; that our bodies will always be limber and our beauty will never fade; that our skin will always be taut and our bones will always be strong; that we will always have Time on our side and that it will never run short. At least, most of us think that anyway.
It’s funny, scary, and sad how we are often blinded to subtle changes that go on around us – the birth of fine lines that start to deepen over time; the gentle sag of skin that pulls further with age; the new strand of white hair that blends amongst the growing population of white hairs.
One minute we’re basking in our prime and the next, we stare at ourselves in the mirror wondering how Age has caught up. In my mind, I’m still think of myself as young and somewhat childish at times. Then I scroll through Facebook and see friends already having their third child at 30. Ok maybe just the one who started pretty early, but many are settling nicely into married life and a fair number are starting to pop out babies.
Then I look at me and see myself still struggling along, still flip-flopping about gaining weight and still being afraid of whatever it is I’m supposed to be afraid of according to the ED. And I know, I know, that I only have so long before I turn around and wonder where I let my years go to, and cry over the babies I always wanted but never had – all because I allowed myself to continue being consumed by ED.
It stops now, I say. When’s now?, ED asks. Because my ‘nows’ appear to be a spot of light that I keep chasing, but not daring to catch.