I stand in the bathroom, staring into the mirror, staring and feeling, well, I'm not quite sure what I'm feeling. Bothered? Resigned? Ambivalent? Annoyed?
They're wiry and stubborn. They catch the light, and not in a shiny, healthy, herbal essency sort of way either.
I used to spend hours eliminating them.
I used to spend hours eliminating them.
But, they just come right back and more all the time. More. All the time.
Gray and mocking and a constant reminder that time marches on. And, really, they're not even gray. More translucent. Colorless. At least gray would be something. But, they're not gray.
Plucking is pointless. I can't keep up. I can't even see them all, you know, because they're colorless. I tilt my head so the light hits it differently and look for the inevitable glint or rather glints. I am increasingly blinded by their gleam.
So now I wonder, is it time to dye?
To dye or not to dye, that is the question.
By my age, my mother was already salt and pepper. She dyed her hair a few times, but then just decided to accept the inevitability of her fate. Gracefully, of course, as she does everything. I'm not there yet, salt and pepper or graceful, but I know I will be, salt and pepper, that is. The graceful part is a work in progress.
But, the change is coming and sooner than I'd like.
Now she's silver, and lovely, but also 60. 60 and silver makes sense.
I have good hair. It's thick and naturally curly, well, more like wavy. But, it holds curl and can be straightened too. And, it has always been wasted on me. I never "do" it. I invest in a new round of headbands and barrettes and ouchless, pony-tail holders every few months so I can pull it up and back and out of my way. I chop it off when I feel anxious and need a change. I have dyed it once and put highlights in fewer than 5 times. I don't have a go to style or stylist. I know, a waste.
Genetics notwithstanding, I can't help but wonder if this is punishment for squandering my gift. Maybe I can make restitution some other way?
Genetics notwithstanding, I can't help but wonder if this is punishment for squandering my gift. Maybe I can make restitution some other way?
Because, I'm not ready to be gray, not yet.