As I traverse time, I am more aware of my mortality. If I am going to achieve more, I had better get on with it. The time my life has is finite.

     I read somewhere years ago that we are limited by our attachment to the belief that any aspect of time is linear and that time travel is completely out of the question. I read somewhere else that time is like a mountain range with the past, present and future adjacent to each other. However the arrangement, it wreaks havoc with our psyche.

     I look back at pictures of myself of when I was a teenager and I see a vague resemblance of who I am now. Even pictures of me in my thirties create an awe of the shapeshifting that occurs as we age. 

     I remember some time ago I was in a line in which IDs were being checked. I handed mine to the man in charge. The eyes are the windows to the soul and looking through his windows, I saw a man who was about to call the authorities because he just knew I was someone who was trying to pull a fast one. Ouch!!! After studying my unwavering stare, he begrudgingly handed me back my ID. He let me through, but I had an unsettling feeling for days.

     I looked closely at my ID picture. I was wearing a wig and looked quite glamorous. Compared to that picture, I was unrecognizable.

     It was like the picture of Dorian Gray, a man who stays young while his picture ages, only this was the reverse. Young Inez in the picture. Old Inez in the mirror. How could I feel indignant in the face of the truth.

     I had really aged. The march of time has not been kind. I have a wrinkle under each eye (more like dents), the beginning of crow's feet and overhanging eyelids, marks that give hints of the storms I have weathered in those 10 years, especially one where I teetered on the brink of death.

     I had survived, though, and I am stronger, more resilient and full of energy (ofcourse my undiagnosed ADHD helps). Thus, my confidence comes from proven inner strength. It is this confidence that makes me no less sexy in menopause. The wrinkles (and dents) symbolize my continuing trek in time, but my self esteem has risen with my age and I revel in knowing that I still have what it takes to go out and conquer the world-one achievement at a time with my inner beauty coming through my interactions. I can thank the season of menopause.

     When I have the opportunity to do my Mary Kay presentation in front of a crowd, I do not have any trouble saying, "My name is Inez Gregory and I am a Mary Kay Beauty Consultant" because I feel beautiful, wrinkles and all. As I convey that feeling of beauty, despite shortcomings, to my listeners, those who do not feel beautiful for whatever reason, start to feel beautiful and that feeling lingers.

     Oh, I did get a new ID. It was not because of the reaction the checker had but because I moved. He was just a witness who spotted the wrinkle in time.

Postscript: Mary Kay's Makeup Finishing Spray by Skindinavia helps my makeup last for hours. I also use it as a refreshing spray in between consultations.

                                                            GOD FIRST, FAMILY SECOND, CAREER THIRD