Find your 50 / Midlife Marsha

Who Is That Walrus…?

I had the worst dream the other night. It involved me & my bathroom mirror. First, let me say, I only look in the mirror when I’m not wearing my glasses. I like the way my fuzzy eyesight diminishes my wrinkles and evens out my skin tone. But in my dream – my glasses were on – and when I looked in the mirror, I saw a wrinkled whiskered walrus staring back. Somehow, to my horror, I had missed gigantic two-inch black whiskers growing on either side of my mouth. I panicked! I wondered how long these whiskers had been there? How could I have missed them in my weekly plucking ritual and why in heavens name hadn’t someone told me!

I awoke in a cold sweat, raced to the bathroom and inspected my face. Lucky for me – my walrus encounter was just a dream, albeit an unsettling one. While I don’t consider myself vain, the whole whiskers thing is daunting. My first appeared a little over a decade ago. I fondly call it my “Christopher Whisker” because the same day I found it, my teenage nephew raced into the kitchen at a family dinner and proudly proclaimed, “Auntie Evie! I got my first whiskers!!!” I stunned him with my response. “So did I!” Horrified, he silently slunk out of the kitchen & never mentioned whiskers again.

Since then – more and more of those wiry little fellas have taken up residence on my face. Once a week I arm myself with tweezers to try to remove them before they grow long enough to wave at people I pass on the street.  I try to tell myself this is a normal part of the aging process. But in the deepest darkest recesses of my heart – I think I’m really afraid I will miss a few and walk outside looking the walrus in my mirror – in my dream.

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