I never figured to be one of those people who worried about getting older. It just never occurred to me. Age happens and as long as your young at heart, it didn't really matter what number you tacked onto your stats list.
About 5 years ago, I started coloring my hair. Oh no, not the permanent stuff, the one that washes out in a month or so. I had to laugh at my mom when she said she didn't remember what her original hair color was. Ugh, who cares, the color of your hair doesn't change who you are as an individual. When she said she was thinking about letting the colorant grow out, I was so proud of her and secretly clapped inside. That's a big step when you've been coloring your hair for the last 30 years. The coloring didn't seem like a big deal and I wrote it off as just needing a change. Then it went from that to needing to stay young looking for my younger husband. It still wasn't a big deal. I only colored 3 or 4 times a year. I have a gray skunk stripe developing just left of center and I've come to like it.
The worst part...my weight loss. I know, who could hate that, and I don't hate it per say but the side effects it has. Over the last 2 years I've been taking Adderall for my ADHD and one of the cool side effects for me is it's helping me loose weight. When I started to loose weight, I started at 214 pounds. The nursing of the boys never seemed to help me loose weight but after a year on the Adderall, it kicked in. It has been nearly a year since the weight loss started and I'm down to 163 at last check. Now, I feel great and Will likes it that he can grab one cheek in his hand and it fits with room to spare. Our intimate life is....more, too. However, the 'ol puppies have taken a severe nose dive south. Breastfeeding the boys was the singular, most spectacular, experience of my life and at 214 lbs.and nursing, I was a shapely 44G. I still kept some good shape long after Eli finished with nursing at a modest 42DD. With 51 pounds shed, they are getting flatter by the day. They rest on my now visible rib cage and sink depressingly into even the smallest bras I have. Back before Christmas, while at Victoria Secret looking for a 40D, a saleslady said the 'sister size' is a 38C...okay (similar band size but lifts up a bit higher). I got a lovely denim-looking demi bra that lets the girl peek out the top but you know what...they don't anymore. They sink depressingly into the cup like they were poured there. I looked last time I wore that bra and was so depressed. Good grief! Weight loss is supposed to be fun! There's no looking sexy (regardless of what Will says) in breasts that disappear when you lay down.
Well, much to my surprise, Will says that all can be fixed. Huh? What? Are you running a fever? I never would have guessed that he would even think about it. I don't want a 44G again, I don't need to be busting out of my shirt, I just want shape. I want to fill my bras and have them look full and shapely. I've seen women with boob jobs and their skin is so tight they look fake. They should have some natural sway to them and move with you not hang there like 2 halves of a bowling ball plastered to your chest.
Is it vanity? Fear of aging? Fear of loosing attraction to my husband? Maybe a little of all of that thrown in with the need to keep my puppies in good shape considering the nearly 3 years of feeding they did for my boys. They deserve to look better.
Self-esteem is also a huge issue. Don't you feel better when you look your best? All the exercise I can do won't help put the girls back where they once were. I'm thrilled with my weight loss and blush a bit when Will tells me how thrilled he is too, but I don't feel my best when that one part of my body that tells others I'm a woman, is droopy and unappealing. Yes, perky breasts are symbolic of youth and I guess, symbolically, I'd like to get some youth back into my now younger-appearing body.
I'm not out to compete with anyone or have a figure like a model. I just want to feel comfortable in my own skin and I don't think that's a lot to ask. I really don't care that I happen to be turning 40 this week. It's just a cooincidence that all of this is happening now and not last year or next year. It would still be an issue regardless of when it happened. So, like when I turned 39 and next year when I turn 41, 40 will still be just another number.
