This isn’t the first time I’ve written about my gray hair.
But this is the first time I’ve made the conscious decision that I’m not going to color my hair for awhile. I’m letting the gray hair grow out.
I know. I know. Hardly groundbreaking stuff here.
But for me, this is a pretty big deal.
I’ve been coloring my hair since I was 14 years old. For the longest time, I was coloring my hair to experiment with new looks and styles. There was no need to cover any grays.
And even when grays did start appearing when I was 25, it wasn’t a big deal. I could pluck the onesies-twosies whenever they appeared. Mostly, I just wanted to cover the roots.
I would be partially bald if I plucked out the grays anymore.
And I just colored my hair a few weeks ago, yet the top of my head and my temples are already frostier than Martin’s.
I can’t keep up.
And to be honest, I really don’t want to keep up.
So, I’m not anymore. I’m going to leave my hair color untouched and see what happens.
Fortunately, I’m a genetic clone of my mother, so I do have some idea of what this is going to look like. While she often colors her hair, there’ve been times she didn’t, and I know her gray comes in scattered like Anne Bancroft and Jaime Lee Curtis.
It’s a little here and there, unlike those ladies who are completely gray like Emmy Lou Harris.
And I just adore this blogger How Bourgeois. I think she’s in her early 30s, like me.
So I’m definitely not the first to do this.
“See these?” I asked him earlier this evening, pulling my hair back from my ears. “See these grays? I’m not covering them up anymore. I’m going gray.”
Silence as he stared at the Nats game.
“Going gray,” I repeated. “No more hair dye.”
Still nothing. So I poked his arm.
“You don’t care that I’m not coloring my hair anymore?”
He finally looked over.
“If it mattered to me, I would say something,” he responded. “I don’t care if you have gray hair. I just like it long.”
So there it is.
Going gray? Okay.
But not short.