One day, I looked in the mirror and noticed some silver streaks had cropped up on either side of my temple — little grey wings. Now that I think about it, there probably wasn't enough for anyone else to notice. But, there was enough that I felt I looked like someone who needed to deal with their hair one way or another, and was just choosing not to. Around this time, I visited home and saw a photo of my mother in the '90s. She also had the wings, but a much more intense version. I thought about the struggles she had with her hair, and that she never had fun or experimented with it. When she coloured it, it was only to correct what she (or society) deemed a problem.