Skin Care, Aging, Patriarchy.

I ordered retinol cream for the first time despite my mother trying to convince me to give a shit about my skin since I was a teenager.

And it’s not because I’m afraid of aging per se, it’s that I find the visible signs of aging to be dysphoric. I never could imagine being this age. I didn’t think I’d be here this long and it’s my first time being alive and all of it feels so strange.

I feel like an alien most days which is incredibly common for neurodivergent people, and noticing grey hairs, newly rippling skin, and crows feet feels so unfamiliar. Seeing my reflection change is uncomfortable.

I struggle with anti-aging rehetoric and the beauty industry in general. Most of us can see that it’s based in self-hatred, patriarchy, and the male gaze.

It makes women hate themselves and compete with each other and it’s big money. There are billions of dollars riding on our low self-esteem.

I suppose I’m buying into the anti-aging frenzy too. Maybe it’s because I used an age filter on Tiktok years ago and looked just like my dead grandma that I don’t have nice things to say about.

Maybe the self-hatred machine is working on me.

I looked in the mirror a few nights ago and noticed that my neck isn’t as firm as I remember it being. I can see new wrinkles forming, probaly due mostly to my obsession with sun exposure.

Maybe I’m over thinking it. Everyone wants to look young right?

But why? Because we romanticize youth? Because we think that men won’t like us if we have smile lines and cellulite?

I still feel the same as always. Young, immature, fun, whimsical.

I’ve gotten better with human interaction. More blanced as I’ve aged and that is beautiful and wonderful…but god damn I just don’t jibe with this fucking turkey neck.