Copy of Amidst Retinols, Ozympics and Insta Filters: A Woman’s Letter to Self-Love

Dear 20-year-old self, I’ve chased you enough. It's time for me to relax a bit.

Dear 20s, I cherish the adulation I received when I was you, the lingering glances as I walked into a party, the glow of my skin, the perfectly contoured jawline. Clothes that fit me effortlessly, not me fitting into them. I’ve lived those moments, now kept safely in some closets inside a photo album; I didn't have a digital footprint back then.

As life unfolded, I donned different caps, of a wife, a daughter-in-law, a mother and yes, a short stint at a career that was convenient for others. As "my responsibilities" grew, I took a step back to embrace motherhood, loved my time with my kids, watching them grow, and becoming part of a dozen mommy groups. I tried my best to raise well-behaved, well-fed kids despite unsolicited advice from people sometimes on their thinner legs, sometimes on my waistline.

Now I’m a woman in my 40s, and somewhere along the way, I’ve already been tagged a superwoman (again, a tag that's put on me for the convenience of others). But honestly, am I even ready to take on that tag?

I scroll through social media, and boom!

There’s a health influencer telling me to ditch white rice. (For the first time, whites are facing discrimination!) I’ve officially entered the prime target zone for beauty brands selling wrinkle-hiding retinol serum—wrinkles I’ve earned while surviving my teenager’s eye-rolls and hormonal storms. A weight loss brand pops up, secretly calculating how many times I have eaten out.

Long story short—I have all the reasons to feel validated and valued.

What do I do? I pick up my phone, click a selfie from my right profile that looks a bit leaner, post it on Instagram with the most flattering filter… and then start checking likes and comments every five minutes like clockwork?

But then I pause, gather my thoughts, and begin to question that very thought. There's something beautiful about your 40s, you're no longer afraid to ask questions. Can’t I ditch this constant need for validation and live my life on my terms? Can’t I stop taking others’ opinions to heart and start truly listening to what my heart says?

A giggle loud enough to light up the room. The wrinkles? Trust me, people remember my comebacks more than my wrinkles. These flabby arms? They’ve lifted others, offered hugs. And I know, I don’t need an Ozempic-fed, attention-seeking celeb figure to feel beautiful. My beauty lies in the life I’ve shaped, in the stories etched into my skin, in the strength I’ve carried quietly.

So now, I choose me.

I take a little time out for myself—taking out time for a relaxing massage, a fitness class, learning something new, putting together my dreams again, or just shutting down the noise. Because true beauty doesn’t come from filters or fixes.

It shows when I’m happy from within.

When I stop chasing validation.When I stop letting unsolicited opinions define me. When I own my space.

I choose my happiness—and trust me, the mirror hasn’t stopped smiling back since. [Self Love, Women empowerment, ozympic, retinol serum, mid life crisis, find happiness]