Aging is, in many ways, the ultimate privilege. Tomorrow is never promised, right? So to get to see our bodies age—to change and evolve and transform—is a gift that not everyone gets to experience.
But that doesn’t mean I have to love it all the time.
I recently went to the dermatologist, who applauded me for paying close enough attention to my skin to point out moles and freckles I wanted her to check out.
But the truth is, I turned 30 in lockdown (more on that in my newsletter entry on Bo Burnham’s “Inside”), and the insularity of that experience meant I had a lot of time to examine my own body without distraction.
I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing, because a lot of this meant ruminating on the tiniest of details that no one particularly cares about but me.
But on the off-chance that you too have been paying a little too close attention to your body and the ways in which it has changed, here’s a curated list of the questions rolling around in my mind (and yes, some of them have answers, but no, that’s not the point here):
Was that freckle always there?
Why are my hips so tight when I wake up in the morning? I was literally laying down all night, how does this happen?
How come my upper arms get little red bumps for no reason, and why can’t I look away from them?
Speaking of my arms, were they always this flabby? Is the flab muscle? Is it fat? Do I look like I have juicy chicken wing arms? Where did this come from?
What fresh, mundane nightmare will my doctor/OBGYN/dentist/other medical professional find this time?
How many gray hairs does it take to consider yourself “salt and pepper”?
Did I always feel this stiff after several hours in a car? Or am I only just now starting to pay attention to it?
When they say I have to wear SPF everyday, does that mean I have to apply it to every inch of skin that might see a sunbeam? Or can I, like, apply it to my face and neck and call it a day? Also, can someone please answer this for me who does not have a stake in a sunscreen or skincare company?
Were my knees always this tender? Was I just able to ignore how tender they feel when slowly doing a burpee back in my 20s?
What percentage of my paycheck should go towards anti-aging skincare? And why does it always feel like too much?
Got your own questions about your body and aging rattling around in your head? Are you fixated on weird bodily changes that you know are normalish, but still can’t look past? Leave them in a comment! The more, the merrier.