What was it going to do to my body?
How was the stress going to affect me?
Of course, I lost lots of weight which was good for me.
But I was worried about the wrinkles.
I was worried aging.
How would I look in two years?
Vain, I know.
I had seen other people who aged for various reasons.
Workaholics who aged ten years over a the span of a two year project.
Parents who aged in two years to look five years older.
And I knew grief would be really stressful.
And it is.
It is exhausting.
It is a job in itself.
And I was afraid of how I would start to look.
Simply because I knew I would eventually start to date again.
I would need to look pretty.
I would need to be attractive.
C'mon, I have a lot of baggage.
I could not look ten years older and have this sort of baggage.
Fortunately, grief has not had too much of a negative toll on my body.
The weight loss was a positive thing.
It did do some weird things with my menstrual cycle.
And my taste buds.
But I do not see anymore wrinkles than would naturally occur.
People even mistake me for being a lot less than I am.
But then last week I discovered something.
One little something.
One little white hair.
At the top of my scalp, it was staring at me.
It was reflecting light back at me in the mirror.
I have always told myself (and my hair dresser) that I would not start dying my hair till I had some greys.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
Yes, people have greys at a lot younger age.
Maybe I will wait till there are two or more.
I blame grief.
Damn you, grief.