07/25/2025
Old Skin, Same Essence
I want to talk about aging.
What it feels like to grow old in a society that moves too fast—
a world that sees things as disposable,
that craves everything fresh, new, filtered, and flawless.
I want to talk about Eldering—
about how, if we don’t embrace it, if we don’t teach our young people to see it—
they will grow up without the wisdom
that only time, and living, and scars, and stories can give.
I want to bridge the gap between the young and the old.
I want aging skin to feel natural again,
like it did when I was a child.
I remember my great aunt Betty—
Her hands, traced with blue veins and arthritic knuckles,
Her forearms soft, lined, with that loose, lived-in skin.
I found it fascinating.
It wasn’t good or bad—it was different.
It had depth.
It had character.
It had years of life and living etched into every fold.
No one told me I should fear it.
No one told me to look away.
Now, when I look in the mirror and see my own aunt Betty skin,
it startles me.
I’m still working with it.
Still learning to love it.
But I try to remember that child who stared in wonder.
And I remind myself:
Essence doesn’t change.
Just the outer shell.
If we can bring back that fascination—
with age, with eldering, with being—
maybe our youth will learn to see themselves in us.
Because this old skin?
It’s you and me, just with more mileage.
It’s not something other.
It’s not something less.
We are caught in a world of anti-aging,
death-defying, death-denying nonsense.
So busy staying young,
we forget how to grow old.
How to be.
How to pass stories down.
Our elders hold the tools for life’s long journey.
And if we don’t look to them,
we are building our future without a map.
So next time you see an elder—
know it’s you,
in a different season.
Next time you look in the mirror—
see not flaws, but a face that’s lived.
This skin has earned its look.
And that’s okay.
It’s beautiful.
It’s worthy.
It deserves to be celebrated.
