But I Like That About Me

My makeup settles in the lines around my eyes

But I like that about me.

My temples catch the light on glimmering gray,

But I like that about me.

My skin is no longer bronzed, taut and even,

But I like that about me.

My hands are calloused and my fingers are crooked,

But I like that about me.

My muscles are covered with fleshy softness,

But I like that about me.

My joints feel worked and sometimes ache,

But I like that about me.

My feet grow weary and weathered,

But I like that about me.

My movement is not as agile and swift,

But I like that about me.

My heart has broken into a million pieces- a thousand times,

But I like that about me.

My mind takes a bit longer to process things,

But I like that about me.

My eyes have seen the beauty of the world, squinted with the shine of the sun and crinkled in laughter.

And I like that about me.

The sun catches my locks, but reminds me that the silver on each strand is equal to the lining of the clouds that once seemed so dark.

And I like that about me.

Freckled and mottled, my skin has known the warmth of the sunshine, been stretched with the growing of babies, and chaffed but healed with the bumps of life.

And I like that about me.

These hands are no longer young, smooth and straight, but they have worked hard, are capable and creative, and have nurtured tenderly.

And I like that about me.

My body is not longer taut on the surface, but underneath lie muscles that have carried babies, moved households and carried the weight of the world.

And I like that about me.

Joints creek and moan, but they have climbed hills and mountains, and traveled hundreds of miles.

And I like that about me.

My feet are often weary, but they have stood strong and firm, run the race, and carried me across the finish line more times than can be counted.

And I like that about me.

Movement is slower these days, but I move with intentionality, with purpose and with commitment.

And I like that about me.

My broken heart has mended its million pieces a thousand times, each time bringing me greater understanding, compassion, and empathy.

And I like that about me.

My wit and response may be slower, but it is because I have absorbed more, gained wisdom, and learned to pause and think before acting and responding. 

And I like that about me.

Each line, ache, mark, break, and pause….each perceived imperfection is testament to the perfection of me; a carve in the clay of  great sculpture, a fine patina on the finest copper, or a light catching facet on a brilliant diamond.

I like that about me.