Morning Discovery: I Found a Gray Hair—and it's Not on my Head!!

Please excuse me for a moment while I discuss my aging nether regions

There is almost nothing sexier to me than a guy with salt and pepper hair. It's one of the many, many perks of dating an older man. Of course, I'm still on the fence about my own gray hair, although I've begun to embrace the fact that I need to hit the salon every two months to deal with the increasing number of wiry strands poking out from my part. But Father Time is no fool. He's got a message to send and now he's using--forgive my bluntness--my pubes as his medium! This morning, I found not one, but two gray hairs sticking out like antennas from my lady parts. Pinky. Swear.

I knew this day would come, though I didn't know how I'd feel. But guess what? It's honestly not so bad. Perhaps the grays up top have prepared me for this moment. There's no way to fight aging (and I have no desire to reach for the dye). The truth is that at 33, I am finally getting used to this "aging" thing. I think all the murmurings about women coming into their own in their thirties is right on. I've never been happier and felt more settled than I do right now. So, bring it on, Father Time! Just please, please don't bring it on all at once.