I beat my alarm clock by nearly an hour this morning. I'm in a rhythm. It's become routine.
In the pitch black of my bedroom, I stumbled toward the bathroom sink to wash the sleep from my face. At some point, I expected to see my reflection as the woman behind the mirror came into focus; instead, my mother approached.
Within moments, we were face to face. I looked deep into her eyes, and eventually I realized they were my own.
I have aged.
Not in a bad way, just in reality.
I suppose I look past my reflection most of the time. I glaze over my face... yep, that's me, still 16 or 21 or 25... And then, I go on with my day.
This morning, I saw myself. Nearly 31.
This morning, I saw a woman staring back at me. Her story is written in the lines on my face. Although I've known it in my head for years, this morning, my heart realized that the girl I once was will never be again. I am more like my mother than I am like my daughter.
It's thrilling and totally absurd all at once.
I'm a woman. A woman.