A Letter From My Eighty Year Old Self

Credit: Marjan Lazarevski/Used with permission.


Dear Forty-Six Year Old Kim,

I was reminiscing today about our beautiful life and thought I’d share some thoughts with you. Lessons if you will. Don’t mind the tone. I’m not shaking my finger, I’m offering you some perspective. And we both know how much we value perspective. 
I’m thirty-four years ahead of you, pretty invested in us, and I know how you think, so listen closely.
Every morning, I want you to wake up, look in the mirror, and tell yourself you’re lovely. Redefine beauty to fit the woman in your reflection. Culture has lied and attempted to steal from you since before you were a teenager. Enough. It will never change its tune, and even if you could conform to its ideal, the ideal will change next season. You aren’t meant to conform to some concrete abstract of beauty. Beauty is not static. Your unique beauty conforms to you. It changes with every grey hair, wrinkle, and age spot. And it’s always revealed in your eyes when you smile. 

Join me at The Consilium for the rest of my “eighty year old self’s” letter!



Mercy
Weathering the Seasons
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