Don't Be A Hater

What do you see when you look at me? Do you see the echo of the trials and burdens etched upon my face or do you see the fire that burns from within?

I am not an advocate for preserving youthful looks by surgery or botox because I believe that we are each Divinely created to be exactly who we are, wrinkles and all. But what contributes to aging? 

“Does Stress Cause Wrinkles and Gray Hair” in Psychology Today states, “The fact is, the results from research are themselves pretty gray. Some studies suggest that stress has direct negative effects on our physical and emotional health, but its exact relationship is complex and not yet fully understood.

Here is what we know. Acute anxiety is our natural response to a real or perceived threat, what we call the fight/flight reaction. It involves a two-way communication between our brain and body, resulting in activation of our cardiovascular, immune, and other biological systems. It's our survival instinct at work. But, when anxiety is prolonged—that is, when our flight/flight reaction goes on alert and remains there—our physiological systems elevate for longer periods of time and ultimately become maladaptive. The result? It wears our bodies down.”

Born the youngest of five children, who were all 10 to 16 years old than me, I had a wonderfully secure childhood growing up playing in the woods, riding my horse and enjoying the benefits of a large family. I was the apple of my Daddy’s eye and grew up ready to live the Golden Dream.

However, the reality of the real world and its burning disappointments were soon knocking at my door. The Twenties brought marriage and divorce and re-marriage. Dealing with loved ones alcoholism and drug abuse brought various degrees of physical and verbal abuse. And disappointment. My parents did not have addictive personalities, lie to each other, nor did they fight. I was ill equipped to deal with situations that I found myself in, and most times I made the situations worse.

During my Thirties, I watched my sister fight for her life after using a dirty needle. She died twice and was revived. She emerged from Harborview Hospital in Seattle after six months a double amputee and missing all of her fingers. I watched her learn to walk again. I watched her learn to adapt to dressing herself using only her thumbs.

As my Father’s health deteriorated, I gladly became his bedside companion, spending the nights with him in the hospital and sleeping in his room when at home to help him with his middle-of-the-night medications. I sat by his bedside administering the morphine until he passed.

The Forties will forever be the Years of Fortitude. How does that saying go? You are not going to change anything until you get to the point that you no longer can live the way you are living. The Forties brought me to a complete emotional breaking point… I didn't want to live the way I was living, but saw no way out... just a Dead End sign hanging on the front door. I hated living in The House of Lies. Blech!  (Can I just leave it at that? I have no desire to blast the Ex or the struggles that we both participated in.)

Then my grandson was born at 24 weeks gestation. This miracle baby who weighed 1lb 11oz and was 12 ¾ inches long would have such a huge impact on so many people… friends and family across America were praying for his life. Many hours were spent beside his incubator whispering my encouraging, “You can FLY, Jayden! Gramma believes in you. You are strong! You are going to change the world!”  120 days later, overcoming all odds, Jenny brought him home.

I participated in a cult-like church.

My sister died.

I was told that I had leukemia.

Separation and divorce followed.

Jen’s next pregnancy landed her in the hospital for six weeks.

A family member drove a wedge between all of us with a huge act of betrayal.

I fell in love. Maybe truly for the first time.

I moved away.

I stood up for what I want in life.

I moved back.

The ebb and flow of life… cascading me over these boulders of challenges, slamming me into bank of personal trials has finally washed me ashore upon the sandy beach of Acceptance.

The days when I look in the mirror and can see only the wrinkles etched upon my face are the days when the past is trying to rear her ugly head and defeat me. But, I know better than to give into that. Every line brought on by stress and sorrow, now also holds the remembrance of the joy – the silver lining – that followed:

·         I may have been divorced, but I gave birth to an extraordinary child.

·         The joy of my sister Lynn living with me.

·         Knowing that my Dad was proud of me.

·         Finding freedom from my co-dependent actions, beliefs and habits.

·         Gaining the most amazing relationship with my grandson.

·         Truly making a difference in the community.

·         Being healthy physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually.

·         Embracing my personal integrity.

·         Being blessed with a little fire-cracker of a granddaughter.

·         Experiencing the true feelings of forgiveness.

·         Finding a best friend in the one my heart loved.

·         Spreading my wings to the possibilities that life offers.

·         I am not disappointed.

Worn down by the stress of my life, the sum of me is etched upon my face. My personal growth chart. The lines represent the forging of my character, the foundation of my future life choices, and the firm belief in Faith. Faith in a benevolent Universe, designed by the One Greater Than Me, who told Job, “You were never meant to understand.”

While I may not “understand” why I have faced such adversity and loss, I bow in Acceptance and Appreciation of the beauty that has emerged from each. The lines upon my face are beautiful reminders of my journey through this life. My triumphs, lessons learned and the joy that I experienced along the way.

Don't hate growing older and don't be ashamed of the wrinkles. This glorious process is what we were designed to do!  We all appreciate the youthful face, but look at the deep beauty of a face etched with time… what a story each face has to tell!

If you are ready to listen, that is… And if you are, what a delightful blessing you will receive!

Finding Beauty,

-Cheryl