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3+4 Thoughts on Turning 34
ONE:
It was in July that I first noticed hyperpigmentation on both my cheeks. I stared at the mirror, playing with my glasses to make sure they weren’t shadows. First merely curious, and then aghast.
My skin has never been particularly radiant, but it wasn’t mottled, either. And now there were these dull brown patches, reminiscent of the poto — melasma — our mothers often sported as a byproduct of giving birth to us. But I am not pregnant, I argued with myself, how unfair that I should only have the spots without the child in my arms!
Years ago, in Reader’s Digest, I read about how a woman looked at the mirror and saw her mother’s knees. This, then, was my moment. Of turning into an older woman. Of realizing that my skin was no longer the unforgiving, pliant being it had been. That I should have bought (and patted in) the sunscreen my sister told me about. That some damages are irreversible.
The month before that, a dentist reminded me afresh about my gum loss, bone loss, misaligned teeth that would begin to chip & splinter. Ironically, this warning only made me grind my teeth & bite my tongue in sleep, & there went my oral health. How can I defeat genetics, though, how can I fight time?
“Why do you not align your teeth?” people ask me, gently and cruelly.
