Bring on the gray hair

Last year, I was doing my hair and I almost fell over. I saw something silvery glinting at the edge of my forehead. I tried to get rid of this “piece of lint” and (horror of horrors!) it was stuck. Then I saw another and another. My three coarse, silvery hairs glinted at me mischievously. I pulled them out and breathed a sigh of relief. THat was the end of that. But I was sadly mistaken.

About three weeks ago, two of ‘em popped right out again. I’ve been looking at them everyday and this morning I just couldn’t take it anymore. Two quick tugs and they were history.

But then I’m kidding myself aren’t I? What will I do when there’re 30, 50, 100 of them? I had nevear really thought of dying my hair but the unrelenting onslaught of silver has made me think again. Will I be able to embrace my gray as a sign of the “maturity and great wisdom” that I have ammassed over the decades? Or will it be yet another sign (like the sagging and wrinkling!) that I’m getting old?

Will I be able to wear my gray confidently and unapologetically? I really don’t know. Dyeing my hair doesn’t mean I’m vain and leaving the grey doesn’t make me brave or principled. When that time comes, no matter what I chose to do, my hair color will not define me. Underneath the brown, grey or even auburn if I feel like an adventure, it’ll still be the same old me.