late night existential ramblings on melanin

i laid in the sun and read the past two days in a row. i've always tanned easily, but i'm almost surprised my skin soaked up the sun as much as it did.

tonight as i was reading i noticed my hand contrasting against the page. my hands and arms looked tan, and for the first time in a long time i felt like i was looking at my own arm. the same arm i looked at as a little girl.

it's hard to describe, but it's almost as if lately i've felt totally separate from the jeanette of my childhood. i first had this thought when sam and i were looking at photos of me as a baby over christmas break. i remember looking at those photos as a little girl and recognizing myself in those photos--kind of like looking in a mirror. over christmas, though, i looked at the photos of my pudgy baby self and thought, "wow, that's me. that's the same skin that still covers my body. . .the same eyes, the same hands". it was hard to believe.

tonight my hands are what reminded me of myself again. when i was little i used to concentrate on my hands. always tan, my little hands had the dimples at the knuckles characteristic of all healthy little kids. i remember asking my mom if those dimples would ever go away; i thought they made my hands look fat and wanted desperately to have adult hands.

tonight it shocked me to look at my tan hand. it's like the lack of sun up here and the paler color of my skin had kept me from seeing myself. tonight, thanks to today's sun exposure and the dim lighting in my room, my hand looks like MY hand. my family. my grandpa and dad have the same naturally dark (dark for caucasian people, that is) coloring i always considered myself to have. i guess i never really looked at myself in winter, when i look as white as anyone else.

but this return of melanin in my skin is somehow reminding me that i am still jeanette. the same little jeanette i was as a child. only now i'm an adult. those dimples in my knuckles are gone, and a nice little scar from chico marks my left ring finger knuckle. my fingers are longer and more adult looking, and the veins sticking out on the back of my hand remind me of the veins in women's hands.

in all the heartbreak i've felt lately i've had the wish that i could return to childhood. maybe not return to being a child, but return to the simple happiness of a time when all that mattered was my family. my happiness as a child was not centered at all around romantic pursuits, as i feel adult happiness (not just mine, all) is. as a kid, just being with my mom and dad and sister and my best friend made me feel complete. i miss how simple that was.

i know that i can't step back from being an adult. as much as i might want to rebel against human society and give up the adult need for romantic validation, i know that adult happiness is very different from childhood happiness. still, though, i can try to remember when all i needed to be totally happy and complete was my mom, dad, and sister.

i want to be in the sun more and get a tan. . . i like it when i look like myself. it's easier to look at my tanned hand and remember who i am outside of grief and outside of adult worries. and i like remembering how the color of my skin, or i should say the ability of my skin to take on that color, reflects my grandpa and his beautiful mysteriously always tan skin. it reminds me that my family does still bring me that pure joy. from my grandpa i get my color, and from my grandma i got my knitting.

and being an adult isn't so bad.

**it's 4am, excuse the lack of caps. also, excuse the non-knitting nature of this post.**