Aging is a humbling experience.
(I see teens and twenty-somethings who primp and angst about their appearance and want to yell at them, DON’T YOU REALIZE HOW GOOD YOU LOOK WITHOUT EVEN TRYING?)
First it was spider veins showing up on my thighs. Then crow’s feet near my eyes. I’m emotionally bracing myself in case I one day sport a turkey neck.
Great. Our bodies are ultimately conquered by creepy-crawlies and carrion.
The latest offense is my hair. I can no longer pretend I don’t see, um, SILver. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Should I Go Gray?
I stopped coloring a few years ago when I first noticed that winter was coming. It was fine when I WANTED to color, whether that was to don a more chestnutty brown than I had naturally, or a reddish mahogany that was more striking than my genetic coloring. But HAVING to color, having to hide the fact that hair-by-hair, my pigment factories are slowing down production, well that’s not fine.
I didn’t want to be one whose face and hair looked like they were minted in different decades. Have you seen examples of ladies who appear to have 30 year old hair and 60 year old faces? If I wanted the parts of my head to age together, I’d need to stop coloring and let the gray start to show, if only to match my face.
Now, though, I can now imagine myself coloring again. And it’s not because I’d be coloring my hair to look younger, but to look, well, purplier. I’ve never taken my hair lighter than it is because I would never strip my color to do so.
But now, now that my own color is planning a final exit and eventually won’t be present to be stripped? I began to wonder how could I turn the lemons of not having color into lemonade — maybe even LAVENDER lemonade.
Once my hair goes all gray, I can see myself doing this.
Or maybe this.
My daughter is petrified that I’ll actually do go through with this plan Mommmmmm, what will my friends say??
Which simply adds another hashmark in the plus column.