Again, from the brilliant mind of Heather McD:
Lately, I'm thinking that people, as creatures who live and grow through time, are really just living palimpsests. Our older selves are simply layered versions of our younger selves. Take a look, sometime, at an older person's face: you'll see every experience they ever had, etched into the lines there. If the person has had a bitter life, their face will show it; and people who live their lives well have a certain beauty, laid into their faces like a mosaic or like those poles with the layers and layers of posters stuck to them.
When I was in my early twenties, I often wondered how I'd look when I was older. Later on, I realized that I only had to gaze at my mom, aunts and grandma to see how my face would droop and what bits would sag. Even later, I read that your facial lines would say how you lived your life. I didn't want to be one of those horrible plastic-faced women whose years of living have been erased by surgery; I wanted to be proud of my lines, which is to say, I wanted to be proud of how I lived my life.
So with that, I'd like to continue living a life that would give me wonderful wrinkles and have that certain enigmatic, tranquil beauty that Heather wrote about.