feel the rain.

Last month, while shopping at the mall, I ran into an old friend of my mom's. She looked amazing! I commented on how lovely she looked and what beautiful skin she had. It glowed, honestly, with just the right amount of aging that announced to the world, I have been places. I have seen things. These lines contain wisdom. I have lived a full life.

And she laughed as she whispered, saying she’d just had a Botox treatment the week prior. Right here, she said, pointing to the space between her eyebrows that furrows and deepens with age and time and focus. See! Can you tell?

I couldn’t, and I told her I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to ask why she’d done it, because really, those decisions are best left to justify within your inner circle. Botox or no Botox, hair coloring or natural, wax on, wax off, does it matter?

But, then, she added this, unprompted: I did it when I turned 70. I wanted to look happy. I was tired of looking like a cranky old woman, because I didn’t feel like a cranky old woman. I didn’t want to look younger. I just didn’t want to look mean anymore.

 I just didn’t want to look mean anymore!

Dude!!!

I’ve always been in the No!Plastic!Surgery! camp, and I’m forever clapping for the women who gray with grace and age with acceptance. Even though for years now I have woken to more wrinkles daily. My eyelids are starting to look like store awnings that keep the rain from soaking the sidewalk beneath. And my walk is starting to sound mighty creaky.

But as of yet,  I haven’t peered in the mirror and seen someone who looked cranky, or unlike myself.

Life is so funny this way. You stake your claim, paint your banner, picket your line and then you find yourself at the mall having a conversation that changes your mind about what it looks like on the other side.

Although I’ll never opt for cosmetic surgery myself, I no longer think of it as vain, not really. I no longer see the decision as one of pretentiousness, or desperation, or the result of a culture obsessed with youth.
I think, instead, that perhaps a woman just wants to look happy. More like herself, or more like her soul.
Perhaps she just wants to feel the rain.

Sometimes it takes more than two minutes of listening by the Starbucks counter to change your mind.
But most of the time, it doesn’t.

just sayin'.

Healthy Tomato Cucumber Avocado Salad

1 green bell pepper
1 + ½ cups cherry tomatoes, quartered
1 cucumber
1 or 2 ripe avocado
1 TBSP red wine vinegar
¼ cup avocado oil or olive oil
juice of 1 lemon
salt and pepper, to taste
2 TBSP fresh cilantro or parsley (pick your favorite!)

1. You'll only need a few minutes to toss this salad together!
2. Chop your veggies, removing any seeds/skin/stems needed.
3. If you're using an English (hothouse) cucumber you can keep the seeds and skin on, but if you're using a standard cucumber remove the skin and seeds.
4. Whisk together oil, vinegar, lemon juice, salt, pepper, and fresh herbs of your choosing and pour over salad.
5. Toss to coat and enjoy!