If turning 50 wasn't bad enough I have a daughter who has taken a keen interest in my age. It's probably because she doesn't know how old I really am.
Being obsessed with aging or anti-aging is a way of life for many women, but has the obsession gone too far when you can't be truthful with your own daughter? I suppose many people would say I'm setting her up, or that my inability to tell the truth about my age is an example of self-loathing or some deep-rooted trauma that I haven't come to terms with. It's not. I just don't like aging. It's that simple. There's nothing wonderful about looking at a passport photo from 10 years ago and comparing it to the one I have today. There's a harsh difference.
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