At this age

 At this age, I put on red lipstick — for myself.

Not to tempt anyone.

Not to impress anyone.

Not to be chosen by anyone.

But to remind myself:

I am here.

Alive.

Present.

Real.

And I have every right to like the woman I see in the mirror.

Self-love is not arrogance.

It is clarity.

It is finally understanding that I deserve respect.

And that my peace is no longer up for negotiation.

If I buy myself a slightly more expensive face cream, it is not being spoiled.

If I do not answer a message that disturbs my peace, it is not being rude.

If I keep choosing myself again and again, it is not selfish.

It is how I survive.

It is how I finally stop betraying myself.

It took me a long time to understand this:

I did not come into this world to be pleasing to everyone.

Saying “no” can also be an act of love.

Love for myself.

For my boundaries.

For my life.

And no one will ever be able to love me better than I am willing to learn to love myself.

There was a time when I doubted everything.

My body.

My voice.

My thoughts.

My right to take up space.

But today, I look in the mirror and say to myself:

“My dear, you are a treasure.

You simply spent far too long forgetting it.”

Because at this age, I no longer have the energy to beg for love.

I no longer have the strength to explain what should be obvious.

I no longer want to make myself smaller just so someone else can feel more comfortable beside me.

And if I put on red lipstick today,

it is not for anyone else.

It is to honor the woman I have become.