39. And life is just beginning

A visual reflection on age, presence, and expression through Face Dance.

A new rhythm with time

I’m 39. And I feel like life is just beginning.

I feel more confident. More whole.
It’s not a cliché, it’s a clear feeling.
Now I know what I want, what I stand for, and what I don’t accept anymore.
And that’s a kind of luxury only time can teach.

For years I thought that, at this age, life would start to shrink.
But I feel the opposite: it’s expanding.
Maybe because I finally stopped trying to fit in.
Now, I just am.

From proving to simply being

At 27, I wanted to prove something.
At 39, I just want to live, truthfully.

I feel like a curious mix of child and woman:
curious but calm, free but steady.
Age is not a weight. It’s movement.

Yes, 40 is getting close. And sometimes it whispers:
“Am I where I’m supposed to be?”
But that thought doesn’t stay long.
Because when I look at my path, I feel proud.

Proud of my choices, even the wrong ones.
Proud of every beginning, every little step that brought me here.
I wouldn’t go back. Not even for a day.
This life I have now was built with courage, not luck.

What time taught me

Time taught me to choose.
To listen to my body.
To stop being fooled by noise.

The origin of Face Dance

That’s how Face Dance was born,
not as a beauty project, but as a way back to expression.

The face is the first mirror of what we feel.
When we move it with awareness — through breath, touch and presence —
we’re not trying to look younger.
We’re simply reminding the body:
“I’m alive.”
And that shines more than any filter.

What Face Dance revealed

With Face Dance, I’ve learned that:

Confidence is the real collagen.
Attitude is the new lifting.
Calm presence is the rarest kind of makeup.

I’m proud of the woman I’ve become,
of the path, the inner fire, the lightness I’ve reclaimed after all the battles.

My grandfather: my reference for ageing

My grandfather shared the same birthday with me.
He lived until 103 always with humour, clarity, and pride in his age.
He used to say every wrinkle was a medal.
And he laughed loud, like someone who had nothing to prove.

For him, laughter wasn’t just joy,
it was his way of staying light, even on heavy days.

On my first birthday without him, I tattooed a blue feather on my foot.
Not just as a memory, but as a symbol.
Something to remind me to keep walking.
Blue, the colour of faith, of infinity, of wide open skies.

Today, I sometimes feel like that feather became flight.
Same soul, now with wind in its wings.

The dance continues

On paper, I’m 39.
In my body, movement.
In my face, expression.
In my heart, every age that brought me here.

And still, I dance with time.

An invitation

If this resonates with you,
if you also feel it’s time to return to your own rhythm,
to your expression, your presence,
Face Dance might be your next step.

I created it for creatives who want to feel more alive, not more perfect.

Let’s dance with time, together.

Categories: : MemoryinMotion