It came to me while I was slathering on the face cream—a cream made by my local farmer of beeswax so unprocessed that it smelled like honey—that what my society values in women is innocence, or the appearance thereof. We slather on the cream to hide the wrinkles that, god forbid, make us look like we have lived a life. It seems society prefers their women as girls. Untouched, inexperienced.
The United States is still a macho nation, alas, and so while wrinkles and grey hair in men are “distinguished” and “powerful”, the same look on women is viewed with aversion. Because what our culture wants in its women is not their power, but their fecundity and helplessness.
Well, it’s time to challenge that viewpoint.
We women are not powerless, and we’re not the inexperienced, innocent creatures society would like us to pretend we are. We have wrinkles. These wrinkles ARE our beauty. Wrinkles are the physical manifestation of a life lived, and what could be more beautiful than that?