My Silver Strands at 27🩶

💜 I love adding colours to my world be it on a canvas or a sketchbook. But when it comes to my hair, I choose not to colour them. I recently came across an interesting fact: A butterfly cannot see its own wings. Others admire its beauty, but it remains unaware of its own splendour. Similarly, people around me appreciate my clarity, maturity, and perspective on life, yet they struggle to accept my grey hair. Their resistance confuses me every time.

Ironically, I am doing PhD on the issues related to ageing populations, and it seems my body took the topic too seriously! Jokes apart, my hair has become an unintentional statement one that I now wear with quiet confidence. I get constant reminders from people walking on the road to attending conferences and weddings about these silver linings. The irony? I don’t notice my grey strands unless I look in a mirror. And so, I let them (both people and hair) be, just as I let life unfold naturally and in its own time.

Being a chromatophile (a lover of colours), I have no desire to paint my hair with temporary, artificial, and harmful hues. My grey strands are easy on my eyes and kind to my conscience. They remind me that beauty is not about conforming but embracing. And so, I let them be, just as I let life unfold naturally, one silver strand at a time.

The moral of the story: Beauty isn’t about masking change but embracing it.