light starch

I am one of those people. I am happy to age.

I have always been this way. I imagine that trait is tied to my perception as a child that no one would ever take me seriously.

“You’ll understand better when you’re older…” I got that a lot; even though I already understood…

I celebrate my wrinkles; the vast majority of them are laugh lines, which are the most perfect way to gain wrinkles. I celebrate grey hairs for that matter. My beard is filling in with them of late; a fact that excites me on a regular basis.

Added into my natural disposition towards aging I imagine are the impacts of my health concerns. Although these days I feel melodramatic for saying so, I didn’t expect to get into my forties when I was diagnosed with lymphoma. Now-a-days, I truly feel like I am arriving to the age of my life for which I have always been waiting.

I don’t seem to fear much these days. I don’t mean such outside things as crimes and accidents so much as fearing myself and my internal processes. Folks may light to read this, but I used to be incredibly high-strung. I am nothing now to the level I maintained in my youth. Asperger’s, Imposter’s Syndrome; call it what you will. I was terrified of being found out, of being called out; of being discovered that I was making it up as I went. As a genius friend from back home would put it: I didn’t want to go out into the world because I didn’t know the words and choreography to the ensemble numbers… (at three years old, she thought that musical numbers occurred for real out in the world…)

I am not consciously aware of any internal event prompting this other than not wanting too much time to pass before more photos. Externally, really…? It was prompted by this: thank you . (BTW: I find the image to be genius.) I wouldn’t consider it a contrast so much as a spinning off of… this is my mimicry these days; I take the external event and absorb it into my own direction before expressing it. I am happy to be there; as happy as I am in my own skin.

*smooch*