Oh, How Times Change

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“Commemorative Photo of 40”

Ok, who had a boudoir photo taken? They were all the rage in the ’90s. I had to have one! Partially because I’m such an….ummm, extrovert! But also because at any given moment, we are the youngest we will ever be. This was taken when I was turning 40. I wanted to memorialize that static moment in my life when everything was perfect. My marriage, my family. My body, my hair. I was in the best shape of my life. My little girl was 4. My big girl was 20. I remember lovely afternoons stitching with my girlfriends, not a care in the world. Planning dinner parties was a monumentous occasion. This was before the ravages of depression and Prozac took away my youth. My ex-husband kept this photo on the wall in his office. It was the Camelot years.

Then everything changed. I had three major surgeries in less than two years. I didn’t bounce back well. I started down the rabbit hole of depression and didn’t come back for ten years. When I got back, life had gone on without me and my marriage was over. My ex had taken this picture down and put it in a drawer in his desk. I didn’t look like that beautiful woman anymore. I didn’t bathe or get my hair done. I gained a hundred pounds. I lived in shorts and an oversized t-shirt without a bra. Those were the Prozac years. I don’t remember my forties.

The story has a happy ending though. I turned my life around after my ex and I separated. I found my Prince Charming and married him. I had such a beautiful life. That was my fifties. Those were my passionate years.

And now, here I am at the opening credits of a new movie. A new decade. A new era. I am very much at peace. Sure, I suffered a blow. My world literally changed in a heartbeat…or the lack thereof, actually. But I refuse to wear widowhood like sackcloth and ashes. I will not make grief a career path. These are my halcyon years.

I look at this picture and as far as I’m concerned, I still look like this. Ok, my hair is gray (and not permed). Parts of my anatomy have headed south. Things aren’t as tight as they once were. I like to think my inner beauty was so great, it fought to get out and my skin expanded to accommodate all that lusciousness! Look at that picture again. That’s who I am inside. Beautiful. Sultry. Young. Wow!

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