Can I accept even this?
The crepe-like skin that has appeared on my neck in the last twelve months, visible from any angle, in any light, but definitely at its worst when I turn my head.
Can I be at peace with even this?
The veins on my hands, shaped like oak branches, becoming three-dimensional.
Can I love even this?
My body in jeans, with no high-rise leggings to pull your eyes away from the pillow of softness that once encased my child, but has been childless for nearly five years.
Must I change what I see?
Is Botox the only solution for the frown lines between my eyebrows, the laugh lines alongside my crinkled eyes, the deep grooves in my forehead?
I allow others to age and I still love them; am I not worthy of this as well?
I think my husband is more handsome with his grays, tbh.
Is my body allowed to retreat + fade — can I give it this gift?
Even as it happens, doesn’t my mind grow brighter, and kinder? More and more each year?
Is acceptance an option?