coming of age


I look in the mirror and see, finally see, my oldness.  It’s been coming slowly enough that i was able to ignore it for quite awhile. But, now the image in my brain has finally caught up with reality. I can see why so many have compared aging to the changing of the seasons as it comes in slow turns. I not only now see my oldness, i am also feeling it deeply.

Old has come and there is no going back. Men’s eyes no longer follow my form. I am invisible to onlookers. Teens become silent. Young women keep their distance not wanting to become me. I am now a member of the old woman gang. The gang with chains of prayer and black leather boots. We have been stripped and refined. We are fierce.