{Remember how I used to respond to comments? Well I’m doing that again. I think/hope I responded to all the comments on the last two posts, and I plan to respond to every comment this summer. Just wanted to let you all know. Sorry I stopped doing that. I liked it so much better when I found time to reply to comments; I’m excited to be doing it again.}
I am generally the younger one when it comes to the people I consider friends. Sure I have friends from college that are my age, but they all live far away. At work, and with the moms of my daughter’s friends, I am always the youngest, usually by a good 5 years. I think this helps insulate me from thoughts about getting older. I can’t really bitch about nearing 40 to a friend who is already 43!
Lately I’ve been super cognizant of how old my kids seem. My daughter recently matured a lot, and not only does she look older, but she talks (and sometimes even acts!) older too. My son is a super verbal 3.5 year old, who learns everything from his sister; he acts much older at this age than I remember his sister acting. They both just seem… noticeably older these days. So much so that I was inspired to pull out my old computer and watch movies of them from two and three years ago, when my son was a baby and my daughter looked like one two. I can’t believe how much they’ve changed.
There are days I look at myself in the mirror and I have no idea who is staring back. But then other days I recognize myself in my own reflection, the 20-something I think I’ll always consider myself to be. In my mind I will always be my youngest “adult” me. I still dress the same as that 20-something. I still talk like her too. And even though I know I’ve grown up so much in the past 10-15 years, in some important part of my mind, I haven’t really changed.
Except I have. I look older than I did in my 20’s. A lot older. And last night I let my hair down in the bathroom and noticed not one or two, but a whole cluster of gray hairs on the top of my head. They were long, and so, so white. They must have been there for a long time, but I always wear my hair in a pony tail and the top gets a little blonde in the sun, so I hadn’t noticed. Seeing those gray hairs, so painfully obvious against the dark brown mop on the top of my head, was frankly, shocking.
Neither of my parents went gray very early and honestly I didn’t expect to either. And it’s not like I think a few gray hairs in my late 30’s assures I will be gray in the next decade. But I guess I could? I don’t know how I feel about that.
I think it’s just that gray hair is the first real sign that I’m really and truly getting older. My youth is behind me and I can only hope that I’ll grow old one day, the alternative is so much worse.
So yeah, nothing to see here, just an almost 37-year-old woman freaking out a little about her first cluster of gray hairs.
When did you see your first gray hairs (assuming you have some)? How did it makes you feel then? How do you feel about them now?