By patch I really mean more like 6-8 strands of gray hair all located within the same area, approximately the size of a lifesaver mint. Which really isn't a big percentage of all the hair I have on my head. I don't know the exact amount, you would have to ask God about the answer for that one (read through Psalms, you'll see what I mean).
When I first found out that I had a gray hair, I tweezed it. I was 21 and terrified. Who starts graying at 21? Well, apparently I do. When I found the second gray hair, I tweezed that one too. And the next one. And the next one. Then I talked to my mom about it (who by the way is pretty gray herself) and I told her that I had been using tweezers to get rid of them, her response? Well it went a little something like this,
Don't pluck them, you'll go bald.
Thank you?
I think that was the response I came up with.
Obviously, my mom meant that if I kept plucking away, there would come a day when I would actually be bald, because ALL my hairs had turned gray and I had just been plucking away. Let's just stop right there, before the mental images of bald me get to disturbing.
So today, about 2 years and 10-15 gray strands of hair later, I have come to the conclusion that I don't actually mind the few grays I still have. So what if I'm only 23, and have a patch of gray? Doesn't that just give me character?
I wise woman (my sister) once said the following,
Don't think of them as your grays, but as your wisdom.
And I think I'm gonna go with her on that one. Why would I want to get down on my self for getting older? It's inevitable. I can't actually stop myself from aging, and I don't really think I want to either. As I get older, I learn so many new things about life. As I get older, I discover that getting older really isn't that bad. And as I get older, I realize that it's okay to be different, even if that means going gray at the age of 23.
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