by Debbie Messerli

Created on: July 22, 2008

Looking Fabulous After Fifty In Small Town America

While visiting Los Angeles I realized that there were more people at the Cineplex than lived in my whole town. With my children grown, graduated and happily married I turned my attention to my own reflection in the mirror. What I saw led to some harsh realizations. I may have felt over fifty and fabulous but I sure didn't look it! How does a grandmother of two, happily abiding in small town America achieve that polished, prime of life look promised in the magazines? I wasn't rich or famous. I couldn't afford the complete makeovers I saw on television. Even if I could how would I access these services from the middle of the boondocks? The closest major city was over 300 miles away. The closest mall was 70 miles away. If I was looking for a gym to join it was 45 minutes of driving, one way. Was I suppose to give up my dream of physical reinvention because I didn't live in the big city?

I didn't want to look 20 again, but I did want my outside to match how I felt about myself inside. Years of too many cookies, too much sun, and not enough exercise showed everywhere on my body in wrinkles and 60 pounds of extra fat. My sweet husband's assurances that he loved me, "just the way you are," didn't make me feel any better. So, where do I start? Research the voices of experience, and make a list of my priorities. I read everything I could get my hands on until I was completely confused and discouraged. Yikes! Seems like the experts agreed on only a few points, very few. I decided to concentrate on the experts around me, the women who had succeeded with the same issues as I had. Women I could see and talk to in my everyday, small town life.

What were my issues? Number one, my clothes didn't fit. I spent too much time in the mornings changing clothes because only a few things in my closet fit me. Why did I think that green blouse that didn't fit yesterday would suddenly fit me today? Delusional? Wishful thinking? Why didn't I get rid of that green blouse? All together now, "Because I might lose weight someday!" Maybe I should buy some clothes that fit. Did I mention I'm not rich? Besides, I already had a closet full of clothes in every size, except larger. Most were out-dated, some with the price tags still on them, just waiting for me to lose that five pounds (yeah right) that would make them oh so cute. So my clothes didn't fit, what to do? Echoes of a thousand voice choir, "lose weight!" No brainer, duh! The conscience

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