This is a sponsored post to share the awesomeness of Jouviance anti-aging from The Women Bloggers,
Kendal King Group, #SoapboxInfluence and @SoapboxKKG. All opinions and wrinkles are my own.
See that girl right there?
That’s me a only five or six years ago, smiling like a fool, without a care in the world. I was a happy mid-thirties woman celebrating semi-inebriated at a blog event with friends while eating sumptuous hors-d’hoevres. What could I possibly be worrying about? NOTHING. NADA. ZILCH. Bags under my eyes? What bags? I wore those “smile wrinkles” like a freaking badge of honor. I’ve had them since my early twenties- they made me look like the smiley, happy person that I am, because I am!
Fast forward to recent past…
… and suddenly, the “bag eraser” app on my iPhone is the first one I default to when I have to share a photo of myself online (like above). How could I possibly change THIS MUCH in just a couple of years? Was it my youngest’s birth, maybe? Did she suddenly plague my skin, make my bags protrude, or something? Why is it that I’m suddenly nearing forty and I’m slathering on beauty products like my life depends upon it? Forty isn’t THAT old, and yet, my skin is aging, my products are multiplying, and my once cute “smile wrinkles” are like Gremlins and are multiplying both in size and number. They’re no longer cute. They’re no longer something I can admire in the mirror or in pictures. HAHA! OH HECK NO, SISTER! You put on that lotion and you moisturize the @#$& out of those things because you can’t look old! You’re not old! 😳😳😳
And, excuse me, almost forty skin, but what’s with this premenstrual pimple nonsense I’m still enduring? Didn’t we have enough of that as teenagers, why is this still a thing? How am I almost forty, washing my face with various expensive beauty products, using glycolic acid (for collagen), and witch hazel (to cleanse my pores) and yet you still want to brawl wit’ me? I’m not that old, but isn’t it about time you go torture some teenager or something? Or are you trying to give me a false sense of security by making me think I’m younger than I really am? “Oh, so you want younger skin, eh, Mrs. I’m Not Old? HERE! Have a pimple like a teenager. You’re welcome.” Grrr!!
This was just me and my skin. Confident me. I had on my pretty new dress, my hair was doing all good things on this day, and I took this picture and … I didn’t need to edit it? For really real? No “bag eraser” and no wrinkles waving back at me when I smiled. I mean, whoa!
And this next picture.. I only had on concealer, mascara, and a little brow liner on this day. I still can’t believe.. that’s MY skin?
