“You should write about this, you know,” my friend of 25 years declared.

“Maybe,” I replied with a half laugh.

“No way,” I thought.

The previous 20 minutes we’d been catching up over the phone. I spent the last few picking her brain about a few cosmetic procedures she’s done.  She loves her mircroblading, and set firm parameters surrounding her Botox use.

Note to self: you may be vain

Often the words I write are actually words I need for myself. Those closest to my heart are the posts written about weight and body image. How do I deal with those last five pounds? I’d rather not. I must apply intentional gratitude toward my body or my mind takes it downhill, fast.

With each passing year, those issues are extending to smaller parts of my body … unfortunately even more visible ones. And if I’m honest, parts I’m vain about.

There, I said it.

Please don’t quote me 1 Samuel 16:7. I know the Lord looks at the heart, not at outward appearance. God’s looking at my heart: how I love him and others. I know this. I just want to have the outside looking good too.

As much as I try to keep my heart centered on God and showing his love to others, I also know I don’t like looking angry after eight hours of sleep. Or while outside in the bright sunlight. Or when I’m enjoying time with friends but look in the mirror and see a furrowed brow.

Sadly, this isn’t the only nagging issue.

Shall we make a list?

Among my subtle-but-growing changes:

My hair.

Recently I taught my outdoor fitness class under the bright sun. I’ve always wear worn a visor to protect my face, but that day I realized I needed additional protection. My scalp absorbed those warm sun rays and turned a nice pinkish hue. It was sensitive and painful. What? Suddenly the clogged shower drain and copious amounts of hair in my brush made sense: my hair is thinning. Believe me when I say I didn’t have much to begin with.

My eyebrows.

I’m not sure what’s going on with my eyebrows but they are lightening and thinning as well. I don’t get why I have to fill in the brows, yet grow plenty of unwanted ones above and below the brow line. Come on, guys, work together here. Extras, move up to the designated eyebrow region and I won’t have to pluck you out!

My 11’s.

I look angry. All the time. Not because I am, but because I’ve furrowed my eyebrows together so much I have a permanent “11” in between my eyes. The tanning bed in high school probably didn’t help. The daily sunscreen application I use now can’t make up for foolish choices then.

My double chin.

It keeps growing. A certain beloved member of my family was once asked by my then-preschool-aged child “what’s this?” while he flicked his finger in the space between the chin and neck. “That’s where I store my extra brains,” was the reply. If that’s the case, I’m getting real smart, y’all! Unfortunately, science tells me it’s not brains, it’s just extra adipose storage. I purchased the Faceblaster (the Fasciablaster’s little sister that breaks up fascia and supposedly fat) in the hopes it would help with my double chin. Let’s just call that one a failure. (Side note: I did, however, find an alternate use for the mini device on my feet. Turns out that helps some with plantar fasciitis.)

My eyelashes.

These have never been naturally full and long. I’ve always longed for lashes that one could see without mascara. Fortunately, I found a great solution to this. I began using Rodan + Fields Lash Boost about two years ago. Total game changer. #customerforlife

And obviously, gray hair.

Oh, you won’t see it, because I’ve been highlighting my hair so long I’m not really sure what my natural color is.

Stuck & hypocritical

This is where I get stuck. Where I wonder, am I hypocritical? Is it foolish to preach body acceptance when I’m clearly caught in challenging areas of my own vanity? How do I reconcile the quest to accept my body the way it is, yet wanting to change a few things from the neck up? Does it make sense that I encourage women to find health, not perfection, in their body, yet I’m acutely aware of my own cosmetic imperfections?

I wish I could let these things roll off me and just find pure acceptance in how I am. But I’m not ready. And the truth is I like my fuller, longer eyelashes.

Is it hypocritical? Or just wanting to look my best?

I have a deeper tension with Botox. How can I justify injecting toxins into my body when I’m so selective about the foods I eat? Does it even matter that I try to purchase organic foods on the “Dirty Dozen” list if I’m allowing a needle to deliver botulism into my forehead? On the other hand, it would be nice to not look in the mirror and wonder what happened to make me look upset.

And while I don’t love my own gray hair, I find it incredibly attractive on my husband. That, I know, is hypocritical. But also the truth.

I took the plunge and microbladed my eyebrows. The Botox flyer is crammed in my handbag. Whether or not I’ll ever take a step in it, we will see.

Being realistic and positive

My goal is not to return to my fresh 20-year old face. The wisdom and confidence I’ve gained since then are worth every line. I’d just like a less angry looking 40-something-year-old.

But I’m still focused on the positive aspects of my body. I’m grateful for my athletic legs. My posture is improving thanks to core work and my defined arms give me confidence in sleeveless tops.

A nice and neat conclusion – or lack thereof

This post has been 90% complete for over a month. I simply have not been able to figure out how to wrap this up neatly and come to a solid conclusion. Maybe that’s the point, though. Maybe we all have one source of tension or another. And I suspect that with each personal season we experience, our tensions change.

Despite the restlessness, I have my firm foundation:

I am a child of God, rooted in his love for me.

No matter my eyebrow thickness or lines on my forehead, this truth does not change. Nor does a natural aging process.

God won’t love me any more or less with fuller eyebrows or a smooth forehead.

But it sure would be nice if I had those.