I told myself, “Maybe this is just what 38 looks like.”
But deep down, I wasn’t ready to accept that.
Because I didn’t feel older — I just looked it.
And that didn’t feel fair.
As a Black woman, I’ve always loved my skin — the warmth, the richness, the glow that felt like mine. But when the dark spots started showing up and that light faded, I felt disconnected from my reflection.
Like the woman I saw in the mirror wasn’t me anymore.
Then one afternoon, I ran into an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. We’re the same age, same lifestyle, same everything — but when I saw her, I was floored.
Her skin was glowing.
Not “good lighting” glowing. Not “makeup” glowing.
Just real, natural, radiant skin.
I couldn’t stop staring.
Finally, I blurted out, “Okay, what are you doing? You look incredible.”
She laughed and said, “Girl, it’s this overnight mask. It changed my skin.”
I almost didn’t believe her. I’ve heard those words before — “it changed my skin.”
But when she told me she was 42… I froze.
She looked younger than me.
That’s when it hit me: maybe it wasn’t time making me look older.
Maybe it was something else.