Let’s talk about the word “beauty”. What is our obsession with using this word to justify things? I can’t stand it when someone says (usually in the media) says “The lines on my face are beautiful because they are a map of my life.” Is getting older really beautiful? I suppose in a broad sense of the word it can be, but the really question to ask is why does that matter? Does it not have worth or substance if it is not defined as “beauty”? We don’t have to declare something beautiful to validate it. I would love not to have so many lines on my face map, and I wish the ones that were there were in “happy” places, not “worry ones.” I don’t think the lines on my face are beautiful. But they are there. And I accept them. That should be enough.