The other day, I ran to the local pharmacy to grab contact solution. What should have been a quick trip took a wee bit longer than I planned.
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Since embracing my natural color, I have worked with my stylist to make sure my hair is up-to-date and that has led to a whole lot of time spent in the hair care aisle of my favorite stores. Yes, stores. Plural. Because no matter where I find myself shopping, I have to check to see what is available for my lovely locks. And then you just might find me wandering over to check out the lipsticks, gloss and mascara on another aisle. Whether I am at the hair salon, drug store, health food store or the mall, I find that the beauty product aisles beckon me, like a siren calling sailors.
It hasn’t always been this way. There was a time period – from baby number one being born to baby number four graduating – that all I did was throw my hair in a ponytail, grab a lip balm and mascara and be on my way. Sure, if I was going somewhere special I may take an additional three minutes more to polish my look.
Back in the day – late teen/early adult years and definitely pre-kiddies – I had an incredible collection of nail polish and hair do-dads and make-up of every color and type. I kept it all in a decent-sized tackle box. And it took me a long time to get ready in the morning. Of course, it was the late 70s/early 80s, so there were all kinds of hair products in my possession, too, because, well, perms.
This morning, as I was groping for the shampoo in the shower, I found myself a little annoyed. Since I no longer wash my hair every day, my shower possessions are few: one bottle of shampoo, a razor and bar of soap. Finding space for my three little items has become a competition even with an extra-large shower caddy – like trying to find real estate in New York. Because – late teen/early adult-aged children in the house.
Making all kinds of racket trying to wedge my shampoo back in place, I had an “a-ha” moment. Just because my primping items are out of sight doesn’t mean I don’t have them. It means they’re well-hidden. Where no one can use them. Like when I hid things on my siblings. When I was in my late teen/early adult years.
Holy humble confessions, Batman! Midlife is like being a teen again!
As I soul searched – er, looked over my stash, I discovered that, like the younger me, I:
- Use concealer. Not for zits, but to hide the evidence that I don’t sleep much.
- Don’t sleep much. Not because I am out all night, but because I am up all night. Thanks, hormones!
- Am trying to find my look. Not because I am vain, but the changes in my hair and skin doth protest the blue eye shadow and my look from yesteryear.
- Still carry around “ladies’ items.” Same as back then – who knows if Mother Nature is cooperating.
- Have a lot of hair products and do-dads. Not for perms, but for my “natural” color and fun, new style. Sans tackle box.
- Create awkward moments. This will probably never change. But at least I am the one embarrassing the kids, not the one being embarrassed by the parents. Hah! Progress!
- Need my awesome friends. We got through the awkward years back then, and we’re still propping each other up now. But not with walkers. Yet.
- Am still finding myself. Seeking. Searching. In the wine aisle. In the chocolate aisle…
…Or finding myself in the beauty aisle. With an armful of products that make midlife me feel like a teen again.
© Lynne Cobb – 2016
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