Lorna

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Everyone knows that they are going to die some time.

For me that almost came true in 2015 when I was 21.

The trauma of nearly dying suddenly stayed buried for several years, then manifested in panic attacks and an obsession with my limited time on Earth.

For so long I counted the years left of my average life expectancy.

I lost myself in addiction and wreaked havoc on my body both inside and out.

I began recovery 2 years ago but the trauma was still there.

When I noticed the first tiny lines appearing by my eyes, I resented this reminder of mortality that paradoxically appeared when I was happy and smiling.

Two months ago I found my first grey hair, just a sliver of light amid the brown of my fringe!

It was a turning point; I could despair, allow shades of bitterness to colour my soul .. or I could smile at it, lines and all.

I could curse my body for aging, or I could thank it for enduring everything I have put it through.

When I grow old, I want to be one of those wonderful elderly women who always smile and laugh, like my granny is and my grandma was –

– the ones who never fade into the obscurity which society tries to assign to the aged.

I want to tell tall tales of my youth, not long for my past years, and I want to be thankful that I got to live at all.

So now I smile at myself in the mirror. I seek out that grey strand. I speak gently to my body and my scars.

Taking these photos was a brilliant experience! All the work I have put in came to fruition, as I was able to look at myself and see a happy woman.

One who has grown, and changed, and lived.

One who has gently aged and will continue to do so until the end of my span of years.

And finally, finally, I’m learning to be OK with that.

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