When I was sixteen I remember sitting in the hairdresser’s chair trying desperately to get a haircut that would make me look like one of the models in SEVENTEEN.
My mother insisted that we go her hairdresser, Maureen, a stylist with a mind of her own who did what SHE wanted to your hair. “Just a trim” meant two inches had to go because in her mind there was just too much “damage.” God, if she could only see me now after 20+ years of hair color. Damage is an understatement.
Anyway, I didn’t have a great love for Maureen, and that day, as she was butchering my hair and making me look 30 instead of 16 she exclaimed, “Oh my God, look at this – a gray hair,” and then she plucked it from my head. I did not believe her at first, but when she showed me the long gray hair there was no denying it. I was horrified but moved on. I mean, I was only 16. It was a fluke – right?
Fast forward almost 30 years later, thousands of wasted hours and dollars later, and I am still fighting a losing battle against my full head of gray hair. Would you know that my hair is solid white? Hell no, you would not because I spend every 2 weeks coloring it, hiding it and maintaining it. But my hair grows fast and is very thick. A great head of hair, but a nightmare for someone who is constantly sprouting skunk stripes.
One of my friends cracks me up because she has a friend who went gray and posts selfies of herself in all her gray glory on FB. She sends me photos of the gray lady all the time saying, “Don’t do it. Look how old it makes you look.” She’s right. I know it. But I just want to stop the madness. Enough is enough already. When can I just be me?
Sigh. I think the answer is never.