She Earned Every Gray

Tuesday Pause™

I hear it often and Saturday, was no different.

I was at the grocery store when I saw an older woman, and much like I often do, I complimented her. I simply said, "You are beautiful." And, like many of the older women I compliment, she seemed almost in disbelief. She immediately began trying to convince me that because of her age, she was no longer beautiful.

Out loud, I refused that logic.

She had a head full of beautiful gray hair, which I made sure to point out. With a chuckle, I told her, “You have a beautiful head full of wisdom, and I’m sure you earned every one of those strands.”

A few moments later, I passed her again on another aisle. She looked at me and said, “Yes, I certainly did earn the grays in my head.” And I smiled.

That interaction stayed with me.

Before embarking on my journey toward becoming a social worker, I didn’t necessarily have a term for what I was doing in moments like that. I simply called it women’s empowerment. Now, I recognize something else happening. I was using a strengths-based perspective. Instead of looking at her gray hair as evidence of something she had lost, I reframed it as evidence of something she had gained.

Wisdom. Experience. Survival. Growth. Stories.

Those gray strands represent years she had lived through—years that undoubtedly included joy, disappointment, heartbreak, lessons, mistakes, victories, grief, love, and probably a whole lot of getting back up again. So, why would her age make her less beautiful?

When did aging become something we had to fight?

Ageism and society’s beauty standards can negatively affect the self-esteem, social participation, and sense of belonging of older women. We live in a culture that places immense pressure on people—especially women—to chase youth as they age.

We're told to cover the gray, erase the wrinkles, fix the sagging, look younger, stay younger. Do everything possible to make sure nobody can tell that you have had the audacity to age. Never mind, that that "beauty" is a dress up for low- self-esteem.

It needs to be said that aging is not a failure. Perhaps the problem isn’t that people are getting older. Perhaps the problem is that we have created a culture that doesn’t always know how to value people once they do.

And, that message doesn’t only hurt older women. It teaches younger women to fear becoming older women. When we constantly communicate that beauty, relevance, desirability, and worth belong primarily to youth, what are we teaching the 20-year-old woman about 40? What are we teaching the 40-year-old woman about 60? What are we teaching the 60-year-old woman about 80?

Consequently, we've created generations of women constantly looking backward, trying to hold onto who they were instead of discovering the beauty of who they are becoming.

I Remember the Church Mothers

Growing up in the Black church, we had the church mothers. If you know, you know.

They helped keep order. They corrected you. They gave advice and sometimes gave it whether you asked for it or not. They gave tough love. Many of them had a disposition that could read as mean, stern, or angry.

As I've gotten older, however, I see them differently. In hindsight, I wonder how much of that harshness came from women who had endured enormous amounts of pain without ever having safe places to process it, and I wonder how much of that pain was due to a society hellbent on controlling them to the point of them losing themselves within the confines of wifehood and motherhood. Many of those same women were told who they had to be, then was beat into submission if ever they tried to honor the truth of who they felt they truly were.

As a culture, we are still relatively early in openly discussing mental health, trauma, therapy, and healing. So, it should be known and honored that many of the women before us survived things they were never given language for. And there are lessons inside of them. There is wisdom inside of them. There is history inside of them. There are things they understand simply because they had lived long enough to see some things. And honestly, I believe the current church—and this current generation—needs that. Maybe not every method. Maybe not the harsh delivery. Maybe not every tradition. But certainly, the wisdom.

We Need Each Other

Older adults are not simply people who need to be cared for. They are people who can still contribute, mentor, volunteer, advocate, teach, lead, encourage, create, and serve.

Imagine what could happen if we became more intentional about creating spaces where generations actually learned from one another. Older generations carry experiences younger generations simply haven’t lived long enough to have. Younger generations carry perspectives, language, resources, and opportunities previous generations may not have had access to. Neither has everything. We need each other.

There is something incredibly powerful about telling an older woman that she is still needed—not despite her age, but in many ways because of everything those years have taught her.

Aging Is Not the Erasure of Beauty

As I continue developing as a social worker with a focus on mental health, this is something I want to remain mindful of. I want older women to know that what they have lived through is part of what makes them unique, powerful, wise, and needed.

Age does not erase their beauty—it adds another dimension to it. Maybe those lines around her eyes tell me she has laughed. Maybe some of those gray strands came through raising children, burying people she loved, surviving things nobody knew about, rebuilding after disappointment, loving people, losing people, finding herself, and simply continuing to live. There is beauty there. There is strength there. There is history there. There is wisdom there. And there is still purpose there.

So, maybe the next time we see an older woman, instead of seeing someone whose best years are behind her, we should consider that we are looking at someone carrying decades of stories we haven’t heard yet. And, instead of teaching women how to desperately hold onto youth, we should start teaching one another how to honor every version of ourselves we are blessed enough to become. Just in case someone needs a reminder, those gray strands? You earned every single one. And God willing, one day, so will I.

Call to Action

This week, I challenge you to pause and consider how you view aging—not only in others, but in yourself.

If you encounter an older woman, see her. Compliment her. Ask her a question. Listen to her story. Remind her that she is still beautiful, still valuable, still needed, and still worthy of taking up space.

And then ask yourself: What have I been taught to fear about getting older?

What if, instead of mourning every change that comes with age, we learned to honor the wisdom, growth, healing, and life represented by it?

If you are blessed enough to grow older, you will change. Your face will change. Your body will change. Your hair may turn gray. But your value does not decrease with every birthday.

So, when you look in the mirror, don’t only search for the person you used to be.

Honor the person you have had to become. And if you’ve earned a few gray strands along the way?

Wear your wisdom well.