I’m not coloring my hair. I am 33-years-old and yes, I am getting gray hair, quite a few gray hairs, actually. When I was a teen, I colored my hair with box dye, and I went to the salon and had highlights put in it — I tried going dark almost black. I’ve also had red hair. Nothing crazy, but I experimented a little and I always swore once the first gray hair came in, I would be dying my hair for the rest of my life.
The funny thing is, I was wrong.
I don’t know when it happened, but my mindset changed somewhere along the way. I guess the priorities you have as a teen aren’t quite the priorities you have once you are married with four kids. Once I became a wife and a mom, my whole world changed. I started doing things I never thought I would and I quit doing things I never thought I could — things that used to be so important are now a little funny to me. For instance, I used to be at the salon every eight weeks like clock-work for trims, perms, and color — anything I thought would make me look a little better. Now, it’s rare that I go into the salon for myself as I prefer low upkeep and easy styles.
Things change, but one thing I never expected to change was my stance on my hair.
If you had told me as a teenager that I’d be in my thirties embracing my gray hair, I think I would have cursed at my future self. Here’s the thing: I love my natural hair. The color is pretty, but more so, I like how my hair feels when it doesn’t have color in it. Not only that, but I really don’t mind the gray. In fact, I call it my glitter. My youngest asked the other day, when she saw some of my gray hair, when I was fixing my hair: “Momma, what’s that?” She thought it was the glitter strands her sister wore in her hair, so I told her it was my glitter. Her sister laughed saying it wasn’t. “Oh but it is! It’s the best kind of glitter; you only get it with age!” I laughed as they both giggled.
It’s funny how we change our minds so gradually sometimes, that we don’t even realize we are changing.
With the first few gray hairs I had, I thought, “Well, one can’t even see them unless I point them out, so I have time before I have to start dying my hair.” Then, one day, my mom was talking about my hair and helping me style it after I had surgery. She mentioned the gray and I told her I was embracing it. She was surprised, but then said she loved that idea. Yes, I may change my mind eventually, but for now I’m happy leaving it alone.
