More than 20 years and thousands of dollars. That is what fighting gray hair has cost me.
I started going gray in my mid 20s. I was not a fan. I battled it from day one. I was not going to be gray at 30 like my Granny. Nope. Fuck that.
Throughout the years I have been a red head, a brunette and had various forms of highlights and lowlights. I’ve went through spells where I colored my own hair, but mostly I’ve had it done professionally.
At the Thomas family Christmas in 2019, I was sitting with my sister, Jaime, who is five years younger than me and my cousin’s wife, Pam. Jaime, who has been plagued with thin, fine hair has been a blonde for years and it has taken its toll on her hair. She decided if she didn’t want to be bald, she needed to just let it go natural. Yeah, that would be gray.
Pam who is blessed with a magnificent mane is also a “blonde,” but had been toying with the idea of letting it go, as had I, for quite some time. She said her stylist told her not to do it. She would look old. Pam commented that she didn’t know if the stylist was trying to keep her looking young or just didn’t want to lose the business. I told her both were true.
Something about that conversation cemented my resolve to stop coloring my hair. The last time I had it done was Dec. 8, 2019.
How was the growing out process, you ask? Fucking awful. I hated every damn minute of it. However, if I must find something positive to say about it, and the year 2020, a pandemic is the perfect time to go gray. Who the fuck did I see? Plus, masks! Nobody knew that skunk parading through the grocery store was me. As a knitter, I also made lots of cute hats and wore them till mid-June.
Here’s the other thing. It was emotional AF. I struggled with it. There were days I hated looking in the mirror. There were days when I did NOT look in the mirror. I would love to tell you it was not a big deal and I’m down with growing old gracefully. However, I fear my pants would burst into flames. I never considered myself a vane person, but it was hard.
After about eight months it was long enough to lose the brown and just go short and gray. I like short hair, so I was happy to do it—or so I thought. When all the brown was gone, I got the fuck out of that salon, made it to my car and burst into tears. For weeks I didn’t know who that person was in the mirror. I honestly mourned.
It has been more than a year since I’ve been 100 percent gray. I’m used to it now and some days, I even like it. I have posted pics of my gray on social—that was really hard. It is getting easier.
Recently I was at a doctor’s appointment and the receptionist had gray hair, but even with a mask, she looked really young. She asked me who did my color? That was the exact color she was going for! I told her my hair was done by stress and anxiety and I could not give her a good recommendation. She couldn’t believe it was my natural color. Ugh. Are you kidding me!?
I’ve had numerous people ask me who colors my hair. It boggles my mind. I don’t understand the gray hair trend. You better fucking believe I would prefer to be a brunette, but I was just tired of the time and money it took to do it. So, I’m gray. There was nothing graceful about it, but here we are.
To all those women who have never colored their hair, you have my complete and total respect. To all those women who fight it till the day they die, major props! And to those like me, who struggled, but gave in to nature, I fucking feel ya.