I looked in the mirror this morning and shocked myself with what I saw there. I saw a woman whose forty years weigh heavily in the lines and shadows of her face, a woman whose mouth has been turned down at the corners with bitterness.

Where is the proud, smart, carefree woman I used to be? The woman with smile lines instead of wrinkles, and a sparkle in her eye instead of dark circles underneath? I used to look forward in time and see nothing but a broad road ahead, full of interesting twists and turns and forks; a path blazing with light and possibility. At forty I look back and see the road I travelled and I’m surprised. It’s straight and flat and predictable, and all those forks and twists are dead ends now, choked with weeds and closed to me forever. When I bother to look ahead now, I see a road cloaked in dust. So many have sped ahead of me, finding their paths and blazing their trails that I cannot see my own road anymore. Read the rest of this entry »