I love embracing when it involves
another human. Wait, I must qualify:
when it reciprocally involves a human
I love, embracing
is a fine way to share a moment.
But when it comes to embracing my grays
or my age, or even my inner child?
Not so much.
An embrace should be a mutual exchange,
not a surrender to the inevitable.
Maybe my birth certificate reveals that
I am firmly entrenched in Middle Age,
but why should that dictate the kind of
clothing I wear or my activity level?
And just because I like to dye my gray hairs
doesn’t mean I’m afraid of who
I’m becoming. Or dissatisfied with who I am.
It might be different if those things had
something to give me in return.
Wait, I must qualify: give me
something I enjoy in return.
But no. Gray clashes with my skin tone.
Age attempts to steal my grace, not enhanced it.
And my inner child? She throws way too many
So it’s been decided. I won’t embrace anything
Until it can embrace me back.