The Silver Lining

Upon brushing my hair yesterday morning, I found one very obvious silver hair sprouting from the very top of my scalp, shouting to be heard, "HERE I AM!!!!" 

Immediately, I grabbed a pair of tweezers and yanked it right out.  When I took a closer look at my head, I noticed there were several of those little suckers brushed neatly back.  I felt defeated.  There's no way I'm yanking all of these strands from my head. 

It's not the first time I've seen what others call "grays" in there.  I don't normally have a problem with it being that I look younger anyway.  But I guess it's when reality struck.  I'm almost 35. 

So far my 30's have been quite an adventure, and in truth, I cannot complain.  It's a beautiful thing.  Hitting 31 was one of my biggest eye openers ever.  I let go of more and more dead weight both figuratively and literally and I felt at my most confident all the way through 33.  But somehow in there, I hit a huge speed bump.

I yearned for an impossible, tragic kind of love and what I got was one hell of a dud. 
The worst kind really. 
With that came weight gain, a depression that lingered for nearly a year and then the tragic and incredibly unexpected loss of my mother.

Well, looking in the mirror yesterday morning, I thought about how I'd been lucky to never have any obvious signs of aging up until now.  I was never much of a drinker or smoker, so I managed to avoid wrinkles and sagging skin.  I thought about my mom in her 30's and how absolutely stunning she was as her beautiful heart and soul radiated right on out.  But I remembered also that it was in her later to mid 30's that she hit her own road block that lasted a good 14 years. Sure some good things came out of those 14 years, but it was a good waste of her time as well.  That's another story though. 

In thinking about these things, I had a moment when I said to myself that there is no way I can allow myself the same or a similar fate.  

To be fair, I had that epiphany several times after July, but this time there was something that felt real about it. 

Here I am on my millionth try to make my life worth living. 
I never truly gave up on myself.  I'm almost done with my graduate degree (with a 4.0 GPA by the way).... I have my very own place, shared with the best man a girl could find, and I don't have any serious complaints other than the obvious, a syndrome I like to call "mom-I-tis". 

So what am I waiting for?





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