My own private vanity

Not once in my life has anyone ever complimented me on my hands. And yet, I have always thought that I had very pretty hands. I liked my long fingers and evenly shaped nails. I liked that my hands were strong without being masculine. 

All of this, I kept to myself.

While working at the computer, writing, driving...anything really, I noticed and admired my hands.

It was about four years ago that I first noticed an unmistakeable crepeiness appear. I was alarmed. I thought, "So this is what getting old looks like."

Getting old starts slow.

Then it generates momentum.

Then it is over in a flash.

I'd always wondered how people got old. People either seem young, old or older. Before now, I never noticed a "sorta old". I think that I am looking "sorta old".

My hands remained subtlety crepey for a couple of years. Just a hint of old that I alone noticed.

I vainly attempted to stave the aging by applying hand creams. Unfortunately, the creams were promptly shed when I washed my hands, or did the dishes, or washed the floors, or cleaned the bathrooms or any of the myriad activities that accelerate the aging of hands. The hands creams ultimately proved a waste of time.

I recently turned 40. And, honest-to-God, it seemed that as the clock struck midnight, the crepeiness overtook my hands entirely. I woke, took one look and thought, "It's over. I am old."

I don't feel old, I am not sad to be getting older. In fact, I feel like I am growing more into myself, feeling more satisfied with my choices than I ever have. I am thrilled to be continuing to evolve. But, I absolutely, unequivocally hate, hate, hate my hands not looking like my hands, but the hands of an old woman. The skin is beginning to sag. And now? I am starting to notice the crepeiness inching up my arms. 

I feel too young to look old, and I don't like it.

It kind of sucks.

I figured that I better get a picture of my hands before they get worse.

I wish that I taken a picture of my hands before they grew old.

Wrinkly Old Hands