Touch of grey

I took this photo of myself recently for the updated pho­tog­ra­phy sec­tion. The touch of grey along the sides of my hair came as some­thing as a sur­prise. I never get a good look at the sides of my head, and my friends never men­tion this chrono­log­i­cal land­mark. I sup­pose I’ve been going grey since I was in my late teens, never notic­ing how far it’s come along until now.

But turn­ing 28 never phased me.

I tell peo­ple I didn’t feel old until I turned 27. It’s that age where you’re closer to 30 than to 25, the dif­fer­ence between a “young adult” and an “adult”. More of a mile­stone than the step that 28 is.

It seems like every time I talk about being in uni­ver­sity, or at my cur­rent job, or how long I’ve known John, I keep adding another year. An incre­men­tal reminder that I’m get­ting older.

Although it didn’t quite feel like it this year.