Back then, I had smooth skin, a fast metabolism, and a hundred insecurities. Now, at 52, I don’t just see my reflection, I see a woman I deeply respect.
I no longer wear makeup to impress. I wear it because it makes me feel like myself. I no longer chase perfection but choose presence.
I don’t compare myself to other women. I admire them. And when I walk into a room, I carry not just my body… but my experiences, my choices, and my quiet power.
There are lines on my face that weren’t there before. But they are from laughing too hard, crying too honestly, loving too deeply. They are mine.
I no longer hide my desires. I crave touch, attention, connection, and I say it out loud. I know the value of a slow kiss, a warm silence, a meaningful conversation. I no longer pretend to be “low maintenance” — I have needs. And I believe they deserve to be met.
At 30, I wanted to be chosen.
At 52, I choose.
And if you ask me, that’s the most beautiful feeling of all.
💋 Svetlana
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