"So, will you never color your hair again?" - my mother asked me in a tone closer to passive aggressive than curious.
I am the only one among the women in my extended family who is trying to cultivate acceptance of my aging process.
And yes, there is a lot to get used to: the hair turning gray and thinning, the facial changes, the loosening of the skin, the softening of the body, a belly that I didn't have even after carrying twins has finally sprung out now.
I keep needing to adjust my decades-long yoga practice - I just cannot do some of the postures anymore. And, frankly, I no longer want to push myself.
Despite the fact that in my 20s, 30s and 40s I was quite the social butterfly, I've completely stopped wanting to go out at night and love to get quiet by 9pm.
A few weeks ago I turned 59, but this feels more than just another birthday - I continue going through a huge re-evaluation of everything I'd thought myself to be.
Like many women around me, I resisted aging in the beginning.
I feared it.
I’m not invincible to the pressures women my age face.
But when the pressure to fight the natural process of aging left no space for choice, I decided to resist the pressure instead.