I keep waiting for the day my vanity will loosen its grip on me - it hasn’t happened yet at pushing 50, and suspect it never will. My grandma was the same - still fretting about her looks till the day she died at 88.
I was very beautiful and honestly, can still turn a few heads now if I make the effort. I just got lucky, genetically speaking, so it wasn’t something I felt proud of, as I didn’t see I had anything to do with it - but I was aware of it. And I’m aware that it’s fading, and I find it hard. I’m trying to age gracefully, and I’m very aware that how I look is literally the least interesting thing about me, but still find myself looking in the mirror (or worse, at photos - I swear I used to be photogenic!) and wondering what the hell happened, and how much worse it’s going get.
My life is very full - I have a DH and DC I adore, a job I enjoy, friends, hobbies - and I try to be a good person -I volunteer, I donate blood, I try generally to be a kind and helpful person. But in spite of all this, I am finding the aging process hard. You might think this is shallow and silly, and you’re probably right. As I said earlier, I’m hoping one day I’ll grow up enough to stop caring!!