And so finally, the nature of time has exposed itself directly unto me. And here I was, thinking I was one of those lucky young women who would defy it; one who would sidle through unscathed, unaffected by the hideous truth that time changes everything. This is not a realisation of the alterations in my psyche, though it truly is a beast that devours change and thrives on it. In a far better way than what the body does. The mind grows with time, it adopts and adjusts and allows for external happenings to influence it. Without growth and change, it would trap us. If humans did not embrace change, we would not be here today, we would have suffocated under the reluctance to expand the mind and thus the earth. A mind that rejects change is not one that is fit for a world that is developing at such an expeditious pace.

But the vehicle within which we transport ourselves undergoes a far less meaningful, far more unsightly change itself. Actually, let me rephrase. It most certainly is meaningful change. When one has long espoused pride, and established a sense of self-identity based on the way her body looks and functions, it can provide a source of amazement to realise that no longer is it the body it once was. I mean this in the least egoistic, narcissistic way possible (is that possible? The mere expression of this concept implies my ego has taken control; though that is another notion all together).

It was a slap in the face for me to realise on Monday night that after two to three months of wondering why my healthy eating and regular exercise routine, that has always been one of my strongest suits – “you can eat whatever you like and still have a body like that!” {jealousy disguised as a compliment; obvious to the naked ear} no longer seemed to be working. Was it my recent adjustment to no longer eating mammals? {It can’t have been, that was a year ago} So my brain took hold of this perpetual question *what is happening to me, I haven’t even given birth to any babies yet* when on Monday night the answer arrived during shower time. Shower time is a sensational time for thoughts to take form, I think it’s because we step inside a one by one rectangle and everything that keeps us contrived and cluttered throughout the day ceases for a few minutes, as hot water cascades the ripped soft lines of our bodies. It’s no wonder the concept of “short showers” is often ignored.

This realisation was that, like many before me and more to come, time affects the human body just like it does to anything else that is not manufactured by a machine. The vital, superbly-functioning organs begin to slow, and the body begins to react accordingly. It’s a funny feeling, to have to acknowledge that something beyond your control is taking place. At the same thing, it’s empowering to accept that change can actually occur. It’s empowering because it has to come from me, though. Taking control is the next step in making adjustments… enforced change. And that is better than having a saggy butt.