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The time has come to embrace my natural greyness. When I look at my reflection, silver locks intertwine with my dark hair.
I remember the "frenzy" of years gone by, eagerly trying every colour to stop the passage of time on my forehead. But what was I so afraid of losing when I lost my youthful tones?
My ability to love, I thought then. But love is not so superficial, nor is our value tied to any fleeting physical trait. Throughout my illness, this lesson was forged through hardship: no real time was lost, only lived.
Now, when I look at fellow artists, their beauty at my age inspires me. They gracefully carry the years that bring wisdom, not as burdens but as gifts. And in my own "garden" - the landscape of my soul - I have cultivated an abundance too precious to deny.
This season, I let nature take its course. My grey hair is a badge I proudly claim, proof that my dreams and passions live on even though my hair now glistens with stardust. My journey doesn't end, it just changes shape once more.
Yes even though it might be one of the difficult things for you to do but I guess you are really making the right decision to accept your age
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