By A Comeaux
While out shopping on a random afternoon, casual mom banter ensued at the check-out line that left me baffled.
“What do you use on your skin?” she asked me. *insert blank stare.
A woman not of my heritage, not only complimented me on my skin but insisted on knowing my age and the regime that’s yielding such glowing results.
Well, in complete honestly, I don’t have one. I wash my face in cool water and use a cleansing bar. Occasionally I sleep with Vaseline on my face and I moisturize. That’s it. For years, that’s been it. I don’t work out, I don’t sweat nor have sex regularly and I’ve never had work done.
But this conversation about my skin revealed a much bigger secret: Women lying about their age. Now I know you’re thinking that’s nothing new and maybe you’re right. But why? When a woman is ‘looking good for her age’ (which I tend to think is a backhanded insult) why lie about the years? And ladies, why do we go 2-4years down? That’s not even significant enough to effect change!
Then I thought about it; if a woman looks good, is it rubbing it in the face of the admirers that entices us to fib? Why do we give general decades? “In my 30s” is by far my all time favorite and it works, it’s not really lying, right? No! It’s certainly coveting details but do we owe that to every inquisitive mind that crosses our path?
Personally, I feel very good about my body, looks and even where I am in life overall.
I don’t feel a sense of inadequacy or any pressing insecurities. I can’t explain why rounding down is so popular but I will share a lesson from my recent experience with you all.
The single mother from Dakota appeared to be in her mid 40s. She was fairly fit and attractive. We discussed diet and this sparked a talk track of its own as I am now eating as a piscatorial diet, no meat with the exceptions of seafood and the inclusion of dairy), and felt as though I’d gained a few pounds. Seriously. I can pinch an inch but that’s another blog, I attributed a portion of my skin health to the surplus of water I consume a day. Still. We were dancing around our age like a high school sock-hop!
I left feeling as complimented as I was confused. Why were we lying about our age? Why do we tell men and children that it’s rude to ask a woman her age? We’re perpetuating a cycle of deceit in our subconscious. I don’t know why I do it! Do you? Are you proud of your appearance? Is lying a testament that we are unhappy with ourselves?
What are we really saying when we don’t say how old we really are?
I’m A Comeaux and I’m in my 30s … reply and tell me why we lie…
A Comeaux is the writer, speaker and actor who poetically paints pictures of life and love with a paradoxical perspective. Follow her on Twitter @KCOSpoke.
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