A few months ago, my physician recommended a plant based diet. My numbers were pre-diabetic, with high cholesterol. After prescribing the standard meds, I lost my mind a bit. The idea of being old enough to require medication for my physical health…it was quite a blow to my waning vanity.
So I attempted this vegan diet. Lasted 7 weeks. Lost 20 pounds. Never been so sad in my life. I would give up on my salad, sitting across from someone with a plate full of ribs. What’s the point? The joy of food was no more.
I enjoy cooking for my husband. For my family. I appreciate the domestic expression of love. The act of serving something delicious for the senses.
My husband does not eat vegetables. He has an aversion to all things health food. He lives on meat. Cheese. Bread. Pasta. And coffee. Lots of coffee.
So here I am eating plant based; preparing meat based dishes for family. Too much. I felt deprived. I could not cook the very foods that were forbidden, and remain solvent in my new diet. I absolutely failed. I have conceded; taking the medication.
Aging has proven to present game changing challenges. To go from being called cute little wahine, to being asked if I have grandchildren. That’ll humble the heck out of you. It did for me.
In certain ways, I sense the freedom. My looks are no longer a factor. I won’t fall victim to our overtly sexist culture.
And then The Lord asks me to look deeper. Step beyond the exterior. Lean into the state of my heart. Remembering that no one cares. Simply a latent manifestation of a deeply dyfunctional upbringing. Was taught that a women’s worth was directly correlated to her exterior beauty. I have believed this lie for most of my life.
I am getting older. I need glasses. My hair is greying. My double chin and neck wrinkles are more prominent this year, than they were last year. I take medication for my physical health. Ugh.
I have grieved the loss of my external beauty over the last five years. If I choose to buy into the propaganda, I am rendered overlooked at best. There is always a choice. In every season, we are offered options.
I choose to see my aging as something other than what our culture tells me. Rather, I choose truth. I am a creation of the Creator himself.