A Love Note to My Scars, Grey Hairs, and Stretch Marks
Scrapbook of the life I’ve lived.
A woman seated on the train in Manhattan got my attention the other day. She said, “I remember when I had skin like yours.”
The funny thing was, since I’ve reached my late twenties, I’ve been thinking more about the signs of myself aging. I have wiry grey hairs sprouting above my ears, new…