a singular gray hair

I feel a great amount of bliss in the mundane, the anticipated, the obvious - even a singular gray hair.

Growing up, dying early was a given. I lived in a home with a level of volatility that didn’t lend itself to a reality of brighter things, only a fantasy world that would never come true. I had a brother who threw punches at walls, and tossed bowls, spit, and searing words. He had friends who walked along our backyard, peeking through windows, hoping for a hit, as he lit up in his bedroom. I grew up with a mother whose own wounds were never healed, projecting her fears onto me. A head cheerleader in high school and college, who never grew out of it. Her ego clung to a happy, healthy veneer for Girl Scout moms and Starbucks goers, when all I could see was the true decomposed rot.

I learned to expect violence at any moment. Even sleep was a potential death sentence. Fighting my eyes to reject drooping into slumber, I was continuously on alert, worrying that myself or my parents could be killed by my brother each night. And I wonder why, years later, I still wake up multiple times throughout the night.

I “loved” boys who were “bad” with a lick of softness. The ones who are “nice” to you, but slightly cold to others. The ones who pre-apologize for hurting your feelings, ghosting you, only to come running back without apology the moment boredom overwhelmed them. I boiled myself down into entertainment.

I obsessed over music and artists, lyrics burrowing tunnels through every inch of my ravenous imagination. An actually healthy coping mechanism that allowed my mind to saunter through creeks and cobblestones, scarlet fields, dark matinees. My mind was sculpted by their words, melodies, rhythms, allowing me safety and calm in a bosom of uncertainty.

2023. 31 years old. And at the back of my scalp, I found a singular gray hair. Leaning towards the mirror, pulling the swath of hair forward, and needling through with my fingertips - yep, it was true. A slight disbelief encouraged a double-take, and elation followed. While obvious that we gray, we wrinkle, we slow down with time, for me, it was hard evidence of a life being lived, beyond expectation.