Aging is a privilege not everyone gets to experience. That’s what I always told myself when my hair started turning gray. At first, it was hard, and I battled with my insecurities, but as time went on and people began complimenting my salt-and-pepper hair, I grew to love it.
Little did I know, my husband had other thoughts.
Our 30th wedding anniversary was around the corner, and I wanted to make it special because it was such a big milestone.
I got Deon a nice watch and reserved a table at our favorite restaurant. As I was getting ready for the evening, he watched me closely.
“What’s that look for?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing, Eve,” he said, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. “You’ll see at dinner. I have a surprise for you!”
“Oh, a surprise? I can’t wait!” I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity.
In the past, Deon had given me wonderful gifts, so I could only assume that he would try and outdo himself for our anniversary.
But I could have laughed at how wrong I was.
We arrived at the restaurant, and everything was perfect. The soft jazz, the candles, and red roses in the middle of the table, it was all just the perfect setting for an important evening.
“It felt like you were telling me that I wasn’t good enough, and that has really messed with my self-esteem. I am good enough. My hair is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I never meant it that way,” he said, regret dripping from his voice. “I do accept you as you are.”
“Then you need to understand that our gray hairs are a reminder of the fact that we’re getting older. But the joy is that we’re getting older together,” I said.
Deon stood up to hug me after that. And as we embraced, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. We wouldn’t stop the passage of time, irrespective of how much we wanted to. But we could face it together, with love and acceptance.