Happy leaves a mark

Recently my wife looked closely at my face and said, "I like your smile lines."

I'm forty-four. By all research findings I've seen lately, I'm probably more than halfway through my life. (Maybe not, but we never really know, you know?) When Felicia said that to me, I replied, "Thank you! I do, too." And it felt so good to say that and mean it.

Bodies are hard to make peace with, aren't they? I have struggled with mine for years and years now. Lately I've made a lot of progress learning to appreciate it, to like it, to even love it and be proud of it. It can do things I didn't remember it could do. It's strong, and getting stronger; it's healthy, and getting healthier.

I do like my smile lines. I like that whole face. It's a good face. I'm hoping to add another few decades of happy lines around those eyes. I have a wonderful partner committed to growth and to me; we have a daughter who is the best of us both, and better than both of us, too. I think that means I've got the best possible shot at adding a whole lot more happy lines.