My friends…

I went to the gym today and I could’ve sworn I’d stumbled into a cartoon convention. Everywhere I looked, there were women built like Jessica Rabbit, walking on tiptoe and batting eyelashes so long they could create their own weather system.

Some of these gals had more add-ons than a Chick-fil-A combo. The lips were plumped, the breasts were sitting higher than a church hat on Easter Sunday, and those Brazilian butt lifts? Lord, I thought a few of them might float away if somebody opened the door too fast. They were walking around like they had life preservers installed.

Now I’m not judging, but I am observing. Somewhere along the way, we traded “aging gracefully” for “aging artificially,” and I’m still trying to figure out when Build-A-Bear started offering a human line.

So, I went home and asked my husband what he thought. Lord help me, that man didn’t even blink. He said, “My love, I married you because you make me laugh, I don’t care about your stretch marks and laugh lines. Why would I pay for you to look like an animation character?” I almost choked on my sweet tea.

But his comment got me thinking. Just how much attention does one person need to start rearranging the blueprint God already signed off on?

Now before you start clutching’ your pearls, I’m not saying I’m above it all. I looked in the mirror later that night and thought, Well, this ol’ body has seen some things. Between birthing babies, late-night snacking, and living my best life in the sun, I’ve got spots, rolls, and wrinkles that tell stories. My reflection screams, “She’s lived!” and not in the most glamorous way.

So, like any woman who’s hit midlife with dignity and a Discover card, I called a plastic surgeon. Just to see.

Honey… when that man told me the price to “get some of my youth back,” I nearly passed out on his marble floor. For that kind of money, I could buy a small house, a new car, and still have enough left to tithe.

So, I smiled, thanked him, and said, “You know what, Doc? I think I’ll just do a little Botox around the eyes and forehead — and turn off the lights for the rest.”

Listen, I still don’t understand all the nippin’, tuckin’, and plumpin’, but I do understand wanting to feel good in your own skin — or at least the skin you can afford. Just make sure you’re doing it for you, not because you want somebody’s half-hearted “like” online.

If you’re gonna invest in something, invest in your peace, your purpose, and maybe a good night cream. Don’t sell your worth by the cup size or the curve. The only thing that should be lifted daily is your spirit (and maybe your coffee mug)

So yes, I may have a few wrinkles and a belly that’s seen better days, but I’ve honestly earned them through kids, goat cheese fondue, and chaos.— and unlike those implants, mine don’t need maintenance.

Lesson learned: Age gracefully, laugh loudly, and if all else fails, dim the lights — because good lighting can fix almost anything.

Scripture: “You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you.” — Song of Solomon 4:7

From Your Friend, Me