On Discovering My Very First Gray Hair

Gray hair 1

This morning was marked with hilarity. I woke to social media shoutouts from my good friend, Sara, for sharing a side-splitting movie review of Tarzan with her (which, let’s face it, is really a love letter to Alexander Skarsgard’s abs). In the shower, my close-to-empty shampoo bottle omitted a noise that sounded like Donald Duck cursing. And then, while I was applying my makeup, I noticed it – a single, wily gray hair decorating my hairline. And I laughed.

I laughed at its audacity. While the rest of my red hair was slicked back, this little sucker Gray hair 2was curling every which way, reflecting the morning light like an over-ambitious star. And then I spent a good two minutes trying to get a selfie that would feature my lone gray hair and its ridiculous arc. Observe.

I announced the discovery to my husband. He came into the bathroom, where I gesticulated at it wildly, smiling and laughing. He tugged on the strand and announced, “Yep, that’s yours, not a hair from one of the dogs.” We wondered together whether more of my hair is secretly silver. I get my hair dyed regularly, so it’s hard to know exactly what’s under the dye. I stared in the mirror and imagined myself with a gray coiffure.

Hipster silver fox much?

(Note – I love having red hair way too much to dabble in this experiment, but I do wish there was a way to instantly strip away all my hair dye and see what my natural color is right now.)

As far as my little gray hair’s unexpected reveal this morning? I’m not assigning blame. This isn’t about stress or the universe being unfair. Instead, I’m celebrating that I got here.

You guys, I’ve been living the my life so hard that I’m changing the very color of my hair. Perhaps I should start telling people I’ve developed superpowers.

All joking aside, I think our societal concept of aging is pretty pessimistic and messed up. There are so many products out there designed to cover up who you are and not nearly enough messages that tell you it’s okay to change over time.

Scars, laugh lines, extra cushion, gray hairs – to me, they’re all markers of a life well lived. I don’t necessarily want to reverse those things, as long as I’m healthy and happy. I want to embrace them and recognize them and move forward, rather than expending energy trying to reverse that which can’t be reversed.

So, it’ll just be me and my little gray hair over here, killin’ it with humor and acceptance.

Advertisements