gray shaming


What’s the big deal about gray hair? Why do so many people hide it, dye it and fight it? Why isn’t it a natural conclusion that our hairs will lose their pigmentation and we’re all headed to the fade out? If we all accepted it, there would be no “shame” in it.

My mom dyed her hair for most of my growing up years. She started to gray in her twenties. She wore yellow hair that didn’t look like very much fun. She had the classic streaks of highlights. And then one day her hairdresser said she would no longer dye my mother’s beautiful silver hair.

My mom has solid white hair in her bangs, and the back has slowly been giving way from pepper to salt over time. Sure, I am biased, but mother is stunning. Gray hair and all.

I think because I observed that whole situation, I vowed not to dye my hair when I started to notice the grays in my thirties. (There were some in my twenties, but they were pluckable without the fear of having a bald patch.) 

I have had friends tell me that I need to cover it up. That I am too young to be gray. Really? Is there an age? I mean, girls in their 20s are chemically achieving gray hair to be in-fashion. So, why can’t I enjoy my grays- which are actually age appropriate?! 

I don’t lie about my age. I’m proud of it. I think for being 42 I’ve got some interesting stories and proud accomplishments. Though half over, I’m nowhere near finished with this life. I don’t feel that I’ve peaked and I have no intention of fading out; even while my colors are fading out. 

My brother is two years older than I am. He has like, 10 gray hairs on his whole head. Some would call him lucky. 

I see my gray hairs as badges of honor. I’ve made it this far and I am really glad. I’ll keep my gray hair, thank you very much. Don’t even try to shame me out of it.

I love words. My head swirls with words. I have many deep thoughts. Some thoughts plague me. In order to release them, I have to assign words. Once the words are strung together, I feel free again.

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