How one solitary follicle of grey hair changed my life

My name is Alma Ohene-Opare. On Saturday, February 16, I will turn 35. So, technically, I am a millennial, albeit on the fringes of that classification. In a world where 26-year olds expect to remain on their parent’s insurance, 35 is still quite young, with the whole world still ahead of me, apparently. So, it is not surprising to me that millennials have earned, in many cases deservedly, the derision of society, and appear to have either embraced or succumbed to the increasingly popular pejorative, “snowflakes”. But for starters, I am not a snowflake. I went to boarding school at 13, graduated high school at 16 and have worked my butt off ever since. At 35, I have been married for 13 years and currently in the process of raising 4 beautiful kids. I have a loving wife, a great job, a beautiful home, wonderful career prospects and all the necessities of life. In fact, you could say, I am living the American dream. As an immigrant who came here in 2003 with barely anything, that nomenclature has a wonderful ring to it.
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