The inevitable

I am 36.63 years old today.

Thats 440 months old.

or 1910 weeks old

I've been alive 13371 days.

Thats 320 892 hours!

19 253 525 minutes!!!

I have come to the realisation that I'm getting old and wrinkley incredibly quickly. I've studied the reflection in the mirror looking back at me and I've considered botox, liposuction, teeth whitening, cutting my long red hair into style more fitting a woman my age and let me tell you, the bags under my eyes have turned into maxi-suitcases.

Even though I try to get enough sleep at night, drink loads of water and eat balances meals (like Cosmo tells us), I still have the horrid-hate relationship of catching a side-ways glance at my silloette while I pass by a shop window and I don't recognise the woman there.

The decades have flown by and two children later, I'm feeling a little cheated by my inherited genes. Why couldn't I get my mother's "skinny" genes? She's been a size 6 all her life and can still fit into her teeny weeny wedding dress - 45 years later.

I've always had to watch what I eat, battled with my weight, yo-yo dieted and tried to exercise and stay healthy. I could never just EAT what I want and stay thin. My metabolism is my nastiest enemy. Look, I never been skinny at ANY point during my life even when I was eating like a bird and it urks me that my mum has NEVER been on a diet during her entire existence! She doesn't know what an eating plan LOOKS like! Surely a girl should inherite all the good qualities a mother can possibly pass on...

Hell, I've even hidden chocolates in such a secret place that I couldn't even find them (even though I am CLEARLY I am a chocoholic). My friends will positively confirm this.

My weight loss programme doesn't work like it used to and my body is rapidly heading south despite the many hours at the gym and running on the treadmill like a rabid gerbal in her wheel.

I often wonder how my husband notices the changes. What does he REALLY think of how I've changes over the years. Will he still love the old, wrinkled Gillian? Does he see the orange peel arse, flabby saggy tummy and bulging hips. Does he see the increasing deep lines on my face? How do my girls see me? Do they think I'm not as pretty as the other mum's they see at school? Do they see me as fat? Do they consider me an old fart?

I find myself walking sideways like a crab with my arse pointed towards the security of the wall so that my husband doesn't get totally grossed out by my hail damage. I suck in my stomach and angel myself lying on my back in bed so he doesn't feel my fat rolls. I find myself keeping my towel tightly tucked on until the very last second before getting in or out the bath. I don't even own a bikini anymore and board shorts are my best friend.

I detest going into the local departments stores now-a-days as it gives you a completely HONEST angel of every part of your body. I always get depressed when trying something on at the shops and now I'll buy something and take it home and fit it there. 8 times out of 10 I have to take it back at least twice before I find the right fit *sigh*.

Gone are the days where I could pick up a cute fashion item in a size 10, pay for it, get it home and it would fit like a glove. All smiles. Now, I have to hold my breath, suck it in, squeeze and shoe-horn myself into certain brands and labels that used to be old favourites. Hmmmm its depressing...

I don't like to be in front of the camera anymore either. I dread looking at pictures at myself as a scrutinise everything about myself and find so many horrid faults. All I can say is thank goodness for digital and the delete button. I'd hate to spend all my hard earned Rands on developing crappy pictures of me looking decidedly chubby, old and flushed.

Will I ever find peace within my own skin?