Tug

I walked into the bathroom to have a shower and faced a magnifying glass that had disguised itself as a mirror. I considered my curly greying hair on my wrinkled freckled face. I thought about the time they first made an appearance and how I pondered whether I should comply with the societal trend of dying them or allow them to flow with the rhythm of the years. 

I believed that we are in a constant tug-of-war with the pressures of what I call "the norm". In this game, I believed that there will always be a winner and a loser. The more one team dug their heels into the dirt, the more the other side pulled.

There have been occasions when I felt myself prepare for a battle before the trumpets sounded. But that battle was usually in my head. 

Nearly a year ago, I decided to stop dying my hair. I thought that I needed to reach the center line ahead of time; thinking that "the norm" would never be ready to give in. So I dug my heels into the ground imagining that I was going to have to battle hard and battle good. I was ready for a fight!

After a few weeks of this mental tug and prepping for an understanding, I realized that the battle was won from the start; neither team had wanted to fight. So following a short discussion with questions and answers, the teams forfeited amicably.

 That is why a tug-of understanding is a better game where we can have two winners. An outcome, I find more appealing. Two winners; where both sides meet at the center line based on mutual respect and not on weight or strength. 

So now... I get to keep my hair grey and straighten it from time to time if I wanted to.