THE WEIGHT OF DESIRE | AGING
To the Woman with the White Curls:
Thank you
Thank you.
Thank you for showing me a glimpse of myself should I be lucky enough to live another fifty years.
I was having lunch in the grass last weekend when I saw you at the bottom of the hill. The pace of your movements suggested that you weren’t in a rush to get from one place to another, and you radiated a sense of calmness that my scattered and fast-moving life has been missing for months.
I don’t know how kind age has been to your body, but I imagined that today you breathed easily. Not because of your stamina, but because you didn’t feel caught up in many trivial worries like myself. Schedules and to-do lists and the endless expectations of early adulthood didn’t weigh you down.
You may have noticed me at the top of the hill enjoying a picnic with my boyfriend and longed for youth, young love, or for the rest of your life to feel so far away, but I noticed you and wished for peace.
I never got a chance to see your face, but I’ll never forget your hair.
Your thick, white curls were cinched together at the nape of your neck and secured into a low ponytail. It looked just like mine, devoid of color, as it fanned out from its band.
I wondered what color your hair used to be. Was it once brown like mine? Black? Blonde? Or did time lead it to follow the same cycle as the checkered squares of the picnic blanket below me — red to white?
I guess I’ll never know.
Your hair may have been devoid of color, but it was still full of life. It showed all of the texture and personality of the brown curls on my own head that I have worked so hard to love. I saw myself in you.
Our locks are kindred spirits. Mine young, yours old.
We have so much to learn from each other.
In a world where women fear the process of aging more than the result of mortality, you gave me hope.
Youthful beauty is our most valuable currency, and every slight loss is another price to pay: days, months, and years. Aches and pains. Wrinkles and lines.
As much as I resisted at first, I’ve finally come to terms with the deep laugh lines that trail from the sides of my nose to the corners of my mouth.
Let my laughter find a permanent residence on my body. Let the intangible belly laughs and cheek-burning smiles I’ve tried so hard to preserve in my memory become one with my flesh. If the lines etched into my face symbolize laughter and love, then I welcome their presence.
I’m okay with those lines. Those lines are good.
But a few months ago I noticed the first sign of inexcusable wear on my clear skin — a line carved into my smooth forehead just above my left eyebrow.
Every night when I brush my teeth I put my face close to the mirror and inspect that line. Has it gotten deeper? Can other people notice it? When will the other lines inevitably appear?
It feels like the inescapable beast of physical deterioration is chasing me. The commercials on TV and the influencers online tell me I should run from age as fast as my legs can carry me, but you showed me that I can find beauty in the beast and welcome her with open arms.
Maybe if I take some time to get to know her, I’ll learn that age isn’t much of a beast after all. Maybe she’s just like the rest of us — lonely, misunderstood, and trying her best to leave a permanent mark on as many people as she can before she’s gone.
I don’t want to be a woman who fears aging. I don’t want to look into the mirror daily and wage a silent war with an indomitable opponent. I want to celebrate my body and accept each stage of life as it comes.
Will my first grey hair form in the shape of a ringlet, a wave, or a jagged strand of frizz awakened by the humidity?
I wonder if I’ll rip it out and throw it away. Will I tell anybody? Will I keep the colorless strand a shameful secret between me, my self-hatred, and the bathroom mirror?
Or will I leave it right where it is, right where it belongs?
I hope that, in whatever form it makes, I celebrate the first grey hair that appears on my head.
Because I’ll be one step closer to looking like you.
Thanks to Terry Barr and Kelley Murphy!
