I’m getting old. And not the good kind either. You know the one that comes with wisdom, contentment, and a sense of purpose. I’m the other kind of old. The one that comes with new found hair sprouting from places it shouldn’t and standing in the beauty aisle weighing the pros and cons of the lotion with sunscreen for all my wrinkles, er, I mean “smile lines”, the lotion with acne fighting power for my breakouts or the lotion that helps blend discolorations, aka age spots. Can’t they just make a midlife crisis version that blocks, fights, blends, smooths and all around kicks midlife crisis ass? I don’t think I’m alone when I say I’d buy that shit in bulk. We’re talking Costco-style purchasing power.

And the hair sprouting up – let’s talk about that. Even without random age-related sneak attacks, as a female I’ve been battling hair my whole life. The stuff on my head has to be full and fabulous, eyebrows to nether region is a tricky, tricky land with some areas needing meticulous shaping and others needing complete removal – both approaches involving untold agony with plucking, trimming, shaving and/or waxing. Once we get south of the equator it’s like battle of the smooth – no hair should be on the legs ever. So now, I’m shaving daily, maneuvering over ever-growing craters and crevices while the once firm landscape begins to soften more and more. Frankly I can handle the leg thing, I feel like it was a known entity, not something I asked for but… something I was prepared to accept. BUT what I cannot handle is the random chin hair or nose hair that, when I looked in the mirror in the morning was nonexistent, next thing I know it’s lunch time and there’s a huge hair hanging from left nostril or chin mole that I KNOW I CHECKED FOUR HOURS AGO AND NOTHING WAS THERE! Suddenly I’m dealing with a good ¼” wiry hair flapping free in the wind.

Speaking of flapping in the wind… gravity. Parts of my body are losing the battle. We strap skin-tight wired devices to our bodies to help fight this battle in the chest AND are expected to not only have these things FIGHT NATURE, but also look sexy while doing it AND remain invisible beneath our clothes. This is a constant battle. If a bra lifts and is invisible – it is not sexy. If it lifts and is sexy – it can never actually be worn under any real outfits. If it’s sexy and can be worn under things – you’re a 20-something, gravity hasn’t hit yet, enjoy that limited bliss while you can.

Besides my chest, my arms are struggling with this gravity battle as well. I call them “Bye-Bye Arms” because I finish waving but the skin flapping beneath my arm is still going strong. In fairness as a bigger girl I’ve had this issue my whole life, but age is NOT helping in the fight. Turns out there are products for this type of thing – ones that help suck the skin together and make it less congenial, keeping more to itself. I tried one such product… yeah… whether it worked or not the bottom line was I had to spend an hour of my life with magical potion soaked rags saran wrapped to my body. All in the hopes for a little less skin swing. THE STRUGGLE IS REAL.

Obviously I try to stay abreast of these issues. I continue to seek out a bra that dominates across the trifecta, I look for new products – no matter how seemingly ridiculous, to fight the inevitability of nature. In my wanderings I’ve discovered there is no one miracle face lotion – it’s basically a whole damn regime of multiple products layered on top of one another… and water. Lots of water. Hydrate. Seriously. And I’ve learned that men’s razors are better, cheaper and available in bulk. And I’ve purchased several pairs of tweezers and have them strategically located throughout my day – bathroom pair, desk at work pair, purse pair— a good offense is a strong defense. As for the nose hair… well… I’d been trying to trim it with a pair of cuticle scissors… Yeah, not my best idea. But after about 8 years and multiple mishaps, I finally bit the bullet and bought myself an electric nose hair trimmer. Two words: Game. Changer. Male or female if you struggle with this issue—go on Amazon and pay the $15 to change your life for the better. Trust.

Outside of the electric nose hair trimmer (FYI—also good on ears, just not a challenge I’ve encountered yet… give it time) there isn’t much I can do about aging other than embrace it with grace and dignity. And by “grace and dignity” I clearly mean kicking, screaming, and being the ideal target for any midlife beauty regime marketing campaigns. Happy plucking my friends.