A New Decade

For my 40th birthday, I’ve been given one silver hair. Near the front of my head, it peeks out from my bangs. I have to search to find it, this wiry thread. I brush my bangs to and fro, hunting.

I do not pluck it. No. I may grimace over additional wrinkles around my mouth or eyes, falter at the lowering of my breasts, despair at the general negotiations with a body that is, undeniably, aging, but that hair: it charms me. 

It is crinkly, shaped like the early 90’s when my sisters and I would press two-inch sections of hair at a time in that plastic covered crimping iron. We’d spend eons to crimp our entire heads. Now I have just one crimped hair. It took 40 years.

The purity of its silver-white is mesmerizing. For a moment, I wish to skip right to when I have a full head of silver but I do my best to savor this—this one representative who has come to greet me. To usher me into my 40s. Welcome to your new decade.

4 Comments on “A New Decade

  1. I loved reading this! You have a way with words. I now have a head full of white hair, that I stopped trying to cover up a few years ago, and I love it!

    1. Thank you Veronice! It has me smile that you loved reading it. Being friends with my white-hair really shifted my perspective from rejection to acceptance.

Leave a Reply