I don’t know how long it has been that I have studiously avoided the condition of my legs. My theory here is that as I get older and continue to look okay, my legs are taking the beating for it. I am grateful that it is not my face which is bearing all of the aging although there are days when my jowls seem to sink into my neck.
I remember being disgusted by older women when I was in my 20’s and 30’s, thinking; I will never let that happen to me.
I also had rules about never going out with bad hair or no makeup, and I have pretty much thrown both those rules to the wind with abandon.
I look pretty good for 50, good enough that people ask my 34 year old sister which of us is the elder. My sister is a master of the slow burn. “I’m going to the kitchen now to cut my wrists.” I worked with other people last year. That was a big departure in that I generally work alone. None of those people could guess my age. None of those people ever saw my legs.
It started with some cellulite when I was in college, when I did my best to avoid looking. In the last year or so, I developed dark spots that I attributed to the sun. Then, the spots started to spread. This is a very unattractive development, and I cringe while slathering the firming moisturizers on. I don’t know that the so-called firming creams work, but hope springs eternal. I realized one day- I have old lady legs while the rest of me remains middle aged. I’m like a walking version of Dorian Gray. Instead of in the attic, all of the changes are going on in the basement. As long as I don’t give any tours, I’ll probably be okay.