Enjoy the Age You Are: Days of Gray
Today’s Naked Truth is the first installment in the “Lisa Goes Gray” series. Titillating, I know. Try to contain your unbridled excitement. 🙂
If you follow me on Facebook, you might have seen the pics I posted on my birthday a few weeks ago showing my newly shorn and graying locks. The lady on the left is one of my BFFs, Linda. We’ve been friends for over 25 years now, and she’s the baby sister I always wanted.
It’s time to change my social media profile pic, yes? Soon. I’m waiting for my hair to gray up a bit more. No point doing it twice.
The comments I’m getting from people, now that my head is half gray and half brown, are: for the love of god, woman—why? There are multiple hair color options in aisle six to cover up that skunk stripe!
Here’s the Naked Truth response to that question, not the fru-fru answer I always give about saving time and money, and being tired of coloring roots every 3-4 weeks, though those things are 100% true. The big reason? Well, there’s a story to it. You had to know there would be, right?
Way back in my little girl days, my mama always told me it was important to enjoy the age you are. I didn’t retain that advice until I hit my middle school years, about age 13. You remember 13, don’t you? Too old to get away with being “just a kid,” but not old enough to have any real fun either. The real fun starts at 16, as we all know. Until you’re 16, and then you realize that the real fun begins at 18…no, wait…21…no, wait…
So while I retained the information, I ignored it. Until earlier this year when I rolled around to the notion that, as usual, Mama was right.
Enjoy the age you are. An impressive concept. Why did it take me 55 years to embrace that?
There’s nothing wrong with a woman coloring her hair. My mother colored her gray and was a blonde right up to the day she died. But for me, my hair became a personal manifestation of my desire to jump into 55 and ENJOY it. I’ve been coloring so long I have no idea what my natural color is anymore. Since I was doing the roots every 3-4 weeks, I saw the gray. But how much gray is in there? All gray? Fifty percent? Salt & pepper? Am I an old crone gray, or a classy silvery-gray like my French grandmother? What am I supposed to look like at 55? What DO I look like at 55 under the L’Oreal 6G? That question got to me and reminded me of Mama’s advice: enjoy the age you are.
So, I’m on a mission to see myself in middle age, coming up now to the latter end of it and sailing soon to senior discounts. My youngest asked me why I want to look old. My only answer is that I want to look however I’m supposed to look at 55. I’m going to enjoy it. Even the gray.
I’m not speaking for anyone else here. This is my own personal epiphany, but if you find it applies to you, I’d like to hear about it.
My biggest fear is that I’ll go through all this growing it out stuff, only to come to the realization that I’m not as ready to embrace it as I think I am. In other words…
What I hope to look like:
What may be the harsh reality:
Either way, it will be me, au naturel. If nothing else, I’m ready to have fun with it.
Do you color your gray hair? Will you ever grow it out? If you’re a man, does your gray hair bother you, or do you just ignore it and put a hat on it? Inquiring minds want to know.
See you Friday for Observations from the Tub. Have a great week!