My conflicting relationship with them
My mom found my first white hair when I was ten and a half. She plucked it from my head and taped it into my baby book while saying that I’d likely turn white early.
That comment created a bit of fear in my belly. After all, my hair was described as the color of spun gold and my crowning glory. This focus on my hair made me think that it was a measuring stick for me as a person…