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I finally have to say something about all these creams. For years, my daughter has lovingly (and repeatedly!) offered me suggestions for “the best” anti-aging creams. Every birthday, every Christmas, there’d be a new jar in my stocking - collagen this, retinol that, “tightening serums” with fancy French names. Now don’t get me wrong - I know she meant well. And I know she just wanted me to feel beautiful, confident, youthful. What mother wouldn’t be touched by that? But truthfully? They never did a thing for my skin. And worse, they left me with this nagging feeling that I was putting something unnatural on. I didn’t grow up slathering on 20-step routines or worrying about crows' feet. We didn’t even wear sunscreen back then (probably not smart either, but still). There was just soap, water, and maybe a little cold cream if you were fancy. Lately, I’ve been listening to some health podcasts and what I’ve learned made my jaw drop. A lot of these so-called “anti-aging” products are full of chemicals that haven’t been properly studied for long-term use. Endocrine disruptors. Petroleum byproducts. Artificial fragrances with who-knows-what inside. It’s like a science experiment on your skin, and the worst part? The FDA doesn’t even regulate most of these ingredients in the way you’d expect. It made me angry, honestly. Angry that women my age - and my daughter’s age too - are being sold this promise of youth in a jar, when half the time the jar is full of junk we can’t even pronounce. And then we feel like we're the problem when it doesn’t work. Like we didn’t apply it “the right way” or buy the expensive enough one. No one tells you that it’s normal for skin to change as you age. That wrinkles aren’t some disease to cure. That maybe - just maybe - you don’t need a miracle cream at all. So I told my daughter recently: I appreciate the thought, but I’m going to start being a little pickier about what I put on my skin. If I can’t eat it, I probably shouldn’t be rubbing it on my face. And if it comes with a warning label longer than the ingredient list, I’m passing. My new skincare routine? Bison tallow balm. Yes, real rendered animal fat - the stuff my grandmother used to cook with. It sounds crazy, but it’s the only thing that’s made my skin feel actually nourished instead of stripped and irritated. Plus, I know exactly what’s in it. No mystery. No pink tax. It’s funny - my daughter thinks I’m the stubborn one, but now she’s the one giving me side-eye as I smear beef fat on my face and body. 😄 We’ve come full circle, haven’t we? Anyway, if you’re a woman around my age, and you’ve felt confused or frustrated by all these modern products… you’re not alone. Trust your gut. Your skin deserves better. And sometimes, the old ways weren’t so bad after all. - A wiser, slightly wrinkled, and very much okay with it mama 💛