Blueberries and Wrinkles, The Day I Knew I was Old.

There was no grand epiphany. No milestone birthday. Just a bowl of wild blueberries.

I eat at least two cups of these lovelies every day. I love them, possibly I'm addicted. I crave them. I believe they are part of the reason I have more energy in my 80s than I did in my 40s. They were my anti-aging secret weapon...or so I thought.

Then one day, recently, I left the house without checking the mirror. I was feeling pretty good. Possibly even fabulous. And then someone said, "You have something blue around your mouth."

Oh boy, it was not "just around". It was in my mouth lines. Nestled neatly in the deep, confident grooves life has etched around my lips. The wild blueberry juice had settled there like a bold little truth. (I have been eating wild blueberries daily for over six years and I had never noticed such a thing happening.)

And just like that, I knew clearly. I had crossed over. I was officially in the category of "OLD."

That was the moment my rebellion revved up and here we are.

I am not rebelling against age itself, but against what the world thinks age should look like—unhealthy, quiet, dismissed, invisible, diminished. For sure not this Rebel.

I wiped the blue stains from my wrinkles, threw on some lip gloss, and continued with wild determination to build my movement with a more serious intention. One that says you can be 83, radiant, healthy, vibrant, wrinkled, bold, and blooming, sometimes with blueberry juice as proof.

So now? I eat my blueberries with pride. I check the mirror, sure. But I never hide. Because these lines? They have earned the right to sparkle. And this Rebel? She is just getting started.