My Laugh Lines Tell A Story

My Laugh Lines Tell A Story

They show I've cried, but that I've laughed so much more

In one month, I will turn 39. That’s simply one year before I hit my 40’s. I don’t feel 39. I’m not sure I know what 39 is supposed to feel like. Half the time, I feel like I’m a 12 year old disguised as an adult. I cannot begin to tell you how many times a day I just kind of look around and think, “How can anyone even think I’m remotely responsible enough to teach teenagers, and to have two kids of my own?” When did I become a grown up? Because when I look in the mirror… that’s what I see. A grown up.

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part when I look in the mirror? The laugh lines.

Oh yes. If I ever doubted my “adultness,” those doubts are quickly erased when I smile…and then don’t smile, but the laugh lines remain. Laugh Lines: Those deep creases that surround my eyes to let the world know my true age.

However. I’m not overly upset about growing older, getting gray hair, and most importantly…the laugh lines.

To me, the laugh lines tell a story. They are an intricate map that stand as a juxtaposition of the struggles and sorrows of my life. The tears I have shed document my pain. The laugh lines document my joy.

Recently, my two girls came back from their father’s house with these photos they had done by what appears to be a professional photographer. Knowing my ex as I do, this was the work of their step-mother. I could barely drag my ex to a photo studio, let alone get him to hire someone to take our photos.

The pictures are absolutely beautiful. My girls hair is done up all frilly. The photos are obviously photo shopped, because my girls appear to be wearing make up. Both my girls are smiling…big smiles on their mouths.

But that’s where the smiles stop. At their mouths. Their smiles don’t reach their eyes.

I’ve always felt that to know if a person is truly experiencing joy when she smiles, you must be able to see the smile in her eyes. That area around her eyes will crinkle…her eyes will sparkle. The joy is indisputable. The smile is REAL.

I have many, many pictures of my children in my home. Every single one is a candid shot that I took when they were in a state of happiness. They were giggling, laughing, having fun, playing. There are no professional shots in my house. I take the candid shots of their delight, and then enlarge that joyfulness.

Their happiness in my photos is real. I don’t have to fake a happy image. I don’t feel the need to put the counterfeit image of the perfect family on my walls. Because my children, my family is beautiful in all of its candidness. I don’t need to dupe the world into believing my children are happy, that I am happy, that my husband is happy, by photo-shopping happiness into our lives. I don’t need to photoshop the perfect family. Because my family IS perfect.

So yes, I am getting older. I am getting wrinkles, and gray hair, and laugh lines. I look in the mirror, and I smile at myself. I see the crinkles that stay even after I’m done smiling. The wrinkles get deeper every time I smile, every time I laugh. But I’m okay with that.

My laugh lines are symbolic of the life I’ve lead. They show that no matter how much I’ve cried, especially in the past 5 years, that I’ve laughed so much more. There is not a trail of tears. The tears I have cried moved over my laugh lines, and then disappeared. But my laugh lines…they have stayed. And so that is what I focus on.

And in my children, this is what I will create. Laughter and joy. So that they will some day stand in front of a mirror, on the brink of 40, and see laugh lines. Deep creases around their eyes that are a testament to the joy they have experienced in their lives.

And when they call me and exclaim, “Mom! My laugh lines are soooo deep,” I can smile, knowing I helped put them there with every moment of joy, laughter, and happiness we share.