Imperfect bodies

Apparently a majority of men (53%) have negative feelings about their body image, which isn't far off the figure for women (62%). They don't like being fat, or bald, or paunchy, or not tall enough, or too hairy, or not very muscular. Or a dozen other things.

I'm always baffled by this, as I have no problems with my own body image. In fact it almost feels there's something wrong with me for finding my body so acceptable. Am I just not critical enough? Is my nose a funny shape? Are my eyes too close together? Surely there's something I absolutely loathe? Nope, I just can't work up any negativity about my physical self.

Yes, I'm an oldie and I look it, but that doesn't bother me. Yes, I've got a bit of a tummy bulge, but so what? Yes, I've got a small bald patch, but it's only other people who can see it. Yes, I've got some crooked teeth, but to my mind they look more natural than rows of perfectly straight, shining white choppers. I'm not going to spend hours of my time regretting what I look like.

I'm certainly not going to shovel cash into the bank accounts of the purveyors of botox, cosmetic surgery, hair restorer, tummy control shapewear and all the other products exploiting people's self-loathing. I'd rather spend my money on exotic holidays, brilliant novels and wonderful paintings than on desperate attempts to turn the physical clock back.

Because that's mainly what this negativity is all about, isn't it? The desire to recapture one's youth and reverse the ageing process. Well, I hate to disillusion anyone but ageing will have its way, whatever your efforts to halt it.

There are only two things certain in life - death and taxes.

Happy bunny

I know I've been rather negative and angsty of late (one person even thought I sounded
"frantic") but I'd like to reassure anyone worried about my emotional or mental health, or convinced I was about to top myself, that I'm just fine, thanks very much, and there's absolutely no cause for concern.

In fact something very wonderful has happened to me recently (I'm sorry I can't give you any details because it's strictly private and confidential - but it has to do with an unexpected and very fruitful friendship) and actually at this moment I couldn't be happier.

Of course that cryptic little titbit will have your collective imaginations shooting off in a hundred directions, but I'm not saying any more. I'm not having an affair, I haven't met Penelope Cruz, I haven't run into a millionaire, I haven't found the perfect manicurist. But it's something just as joyful and special. In fact more so.

It's funny how every time I think my life is more or less complete, that I've done all the exciting and inspiring things I'll ever do, and that from here on in I'm just trundling steadily towards the old folk's home, suddenly something extraordinary happens that reinvents my life and makes me rethink everything from first principles.

And it happens when I'm not even looking for it. I'm just pottering about, minding my own business, doing the domestic chores, paying the window cleaner, wondering if that bar of chocolate has turned to fat, and whap, something explodes into my life like a meteor and sends everything flying. And what a lovely experience it is.