Recently I was sitting in a lecture, and I was more distracted than usual and I found myself gazing around the room inspecting the crowd of people around me.
I realized something rather odd, every elderly woman in the audience with grey or greying hair had their hair cut in short styles, whereas every young woman in the room had long locks falling about mid-back.
I couldn’t help but think to myself how odd it was.
My mind, by default, was flipping back to my bible school days. Proverbs 16:31 says, “Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life.”
In my mind the roles would be reversed, and I couldn’t help but to wonder if our hair truly defined how we lived our lifestyles.
We all know the stereotypes that follow each hair color; blonde equals a bimbo, brunette or dark hair equals an intelligent, reliable girl, and a red head—if you listen to rumors—just seems soulless.
I personally disagree with all of these; I have good friends of all hair types that continually break these stereotypes.
Yet, there are those few that reinforce the need for such stereotypes, but that is a whole other conversation.
As we all know, outward appearances are most important. First impressions are everything in today’s age.
There is the overall look that is important, broken down into the different categories of fashion sense, hair style, accessories and make-up.
All of which can have you looking like a clown or more preferably a goddess. Yet if you strip all the unneeded fluff, products and fabric away from a woman the question I have is well, what is left to tell her life’s story?
The answer to this question is different for everyone. Personally I’d have to agree, often you can see a whole novel written on the under layers of women they often try to cover up with foundation or dye.
Every wrinkle, dimple, grey streak and twinkle of the eye gives a different piece of their story.
A perfect example would be my mom, she has laugh lines everywhere. At the corner of her eyes and alongside her mouth.
She, like everyone else on this planet, has been through the rough times, but she has learned to laugh through them.
She is still rocking a beautiful length of dirty-blonde hair streaked with grey that’s beginning to show her true age.
To me, when I see her I know her whole life story, and not just because I lived with her.
Life—and to an extent gravity—takes a toll on all of us.
For women our “crown of glory” will show our life’s story when combined with all that is purely us.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, I’d rather say a face is worth a thousand stories.
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