Earning my face

I joke that my face came from a common mold since many people have told me that I look like someone they know.

"Doesn't she look like your cousin Valerie?"

I don't know who Valerie is and gee, I'm sorry if she bears a resemblence to me (said jokingly).

I'd look in the mirror and wonder what it was about my features that translated so well to other people's faces. I didn't see anything particularly striking or unique - perhaps that was the reason.

I realized this morning that I haven't heard that comment for some time, perhaps as much as a year or more. I think it's because life has given me opportunities to make my face my own. I've got laugh lines and worry lines (I'm working on making more of the former and less of the latter). Crows' feet rim my eyes. Gray hairs are sprouting in my hair and eyebrows. Flesh is slowing traveling southward (thank you, gravity). For some time, I've been sucked into the world of cosmetic "miracles" in a feeble attempt to stave off the inevitable signs of aging. It's hard to see my face showing a different side to the world than the one I see in my mind where I'm still 28, give or take a few years. And then, today, it dawned on me that my efforts to reverse time could give me back a face that I had to share with others. I never really minded the comments before but, to paraphrase a song from "My Fair Lady," I've grown accustomed to my face. I'd like to keep it, please. I think I've earned it.

Ah, but don't be fooled into thinking that I'm tossing out my salves and ointments guaranteed to give me a face like the model in the ad. I like my face but I wouldn't mind a hint of youth in my visage.