Looking through some pictures from a mere three years ago, I was shocked to discover that I looked good. I was blonde. I was thin. I used to wear makeup and style my hair. Feeling sorry for myself I asked the girls, “Am I really that unattractive these days?” “Ummm, not totally, but medium-high,” was the kindest reply I received.

I quit highlighting my hair shortly after my last daughter was born. I decided to become Nature Girl. Since we were planning to move to some remote part of the globe, Nature Girl just couldn’t be getting her roots touched up whenever she pleased, so best to let it all grow out. Besides, wasn’t I always getting all uppity and moralistic about how absurd women were for being slaves to fashion and vanity?

“Your body is perfect the way is,” was the message I conveyed to my girls, mostly in an attempt to discourage them from acquiring tattoos or body piercings in the near future. We scoffed at nail polish, make up, and the girly-girls who wore them as silly, stupid, and a waste of money. “Our Mennonite friends don’t even cut their hair or shave their legs!” I proselytized. “God made you just the way you are, don’t change a thing, babe.”

These days numerous white hairs are sprouting on top of my head, a head with hair color delightfully described by my friend Alex as “mouse-turd brown,” and I am fairly sure no one will ever mistake them for highlights, as I’d initially hoped. I also now have three hurricanes, literally, under my belt. And there is yet another on the horizon. I am loath to throw out food, but the cookies, crackers, and Twinkies really must go. (Honestly, Twinkies, what was I thinking?) Time for some kind of improved diet. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. And flabby.

So, I’m going to be a hypocrite, one with artificial color added, get my hair done, lose some weight, and wear makeup. Maybe then one day there’ll be a picture attached to my profile.

I’ve always been low maintenance, but this is ridiculous.