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**This is essentially thinking out loud.  If it appears incoherent, I apologize.  Just one of those self-realizations that I felt like putting down in words.**

In grad school, I grew a beard for the first time.  It was grown for a different reason, but stayed as a means of "aging" a face that looked younger than it was.  All men in my family do this as we move towards are professional lives.  For whatever reason, we look younger than we are, so mustaches, goatees, and beards become part of our look at an early age.

Even with facial hair, people question our age.  And as I began my career and rose through the ranks relatively quickly, it's necessity was apparent.  In fact, I once had a boss respond to me shaving my beard off with "Grow it back.  You look like you're 15."  I was 24 at the time.  So I grew it back, and kept it.

By my late 20s however, that folks around me stopped question my age.  Not a major concern, I wrote it off as life catching up with me.  We all age eventually, right?  Never really gave it a second thought.

Within the last month or so, the topic has suddenly reemerged.  People new to my life, the friends and acquaintances I've made since my ex left, have questioned the fact that I'm 32 on more than one occasion.  The 19 year old co-ed, who I brunch with on the weekends, level of surprise in particular peaked my attention ("Wait... .you're how old?".  Still, outside of recent weight loss, I hadn't noticed any particular change in my appearance that would account for this sudden renewed disbelief in my age.  The pattern of questions peaked my interest, but not enough to really contemplate the underlying reason.

Then my ex came back to town, and the first words out of her mouth were "You look like you're 26."   

It could have been some obscure form of love bombing (there was plenty the first few hours she was back), but coupled with the other recent comments I began to wonder.  Maybe life with her had aged me, and separation/freedom had had a rejuvenating effect.  Could it be the transition back had happened so slowly that I hadn't noticed?  I guess there really wasn't any way to know.

24 Hours later I knew.

Excessive love bombing, damage to my car, 60+ texts, 10+ phone calls (3 before I was out of the shower), and so much more had taken a toll.  I could feel it.  My body ached.  And then, I looked in the mirror.

The man staring back at me was not the one who greeted me the evening before.  He looked a decade older.  Tired.  Emotionless.  Worn.  No hint of a smile.  No spark in the eyes.  Even the blue of the irises seemed less vibrant. 

It was hard to process what I was seeing. 

I just stared for a few minutes, and thought: Is this who I was with her?  How didn't I notice?  How/why did I endure all those years?  What would have happened to me if I had tried to endure this for decades more?

To a degree I knew the answers (I've worked on some for months now), but it was still an awakening of sorts.  Sure, it was easy to document the effects of the relationship on my weight, but never before had the physical wear and tear been as evident as when I stared at my reflection.

She's here for 4 more days, then back only once more for a final court date.  The end cannot come soon enough.

Hi ADecadeLost, I can relate! When I left my first h I was 39 at the time. He didn't have a PD but it was a very stressful, contemptuous marriage and it took such a toll that I never noticed until people started commenting in the year after our BU how youthful I was looking! One told me I was looking like a teenager again lol !  Then I met my uBPDexh... .4 yrs later I had aged so much. So many health issues over the 4 yrs also. This time I knew the toll it had taken. It's been 9 1/2 mths since he left and I'm just now starting to feel like I have a little energy, maybe a hint of some youth left in me (not much!). I hope with time it returns. I'm not ready to be an old lady yet!