Everyone’s Face Tells A Story

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This is me, scars, wrinkles, freckles, age spots and all. (I even think my lazy eye might be making a comeback!) I would never have plastic surgery because my face tells the story of my life. I have deep smile lines because I love to laugh and smile. I have freckles and age spots because as a teen I laid out in the backyard with baby oil coating every inch of my visible skin. I have a scar because I had to have a skin cancer removed. I have a scar on the left side of my face because I slipped and fell off the back deck of our house 10 years ago. Because I was 46, it didn’t disappear like scars from my 20’s did. I have wrinkles around my lips because gasp I was stupid and was a closet smoker for years. I’m not model perfect. I’m a real woman.

For the record, I’ve never ever, ever been “pretty” by the worlds’ terms, but I do think I can be “cute” if I wear lipstick, mascara, and a smile. Otherwise, hide your children ’cause I’m kinda scary first thing in the morning!

Why am I confessing all this? Because I think as human beings we should accept who we are–wrinkles, spots, imperfections–and all! Finally, at the age of 56 breathing down the neck of 57, I like me. I like my face. Please, no matter what your age, like yourself! Like your face and body! God loves you and if the King of the Universe loves you just as you are, well, you should love yourself too!

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