Sincere, but a wee bit crushing
I have a natural bent; I avoid chemicals, and I like thing to be the way God created them to be. Plus, I’m just… low-maintenance.
I didn’t used to be low-maintenance; I had to buy my first alarm clock when I was 14 because my mom wouldn’t wake me up at 5:30 to get ready for school, when we left the house at 7:45; she would wait until a more reasonable hour, as she thought 2+ hours for me to get ready was excessive primping time.
But, being a mom of five kids now, I have to be very careful how I distribute my time, and personal care, while not exactly falling to the bottom of the list, isn’t on the top any more.
I love the look of ladies in their 50s or 60s, with thick, healthy, silver hair. Seeing an older lady with unnaturally dark brown or auburn, chemically fried hair is an instant reminder to me, instant motivation: “That is SO not going to be me.”
All of that leads me to where I am now: 36 years old and graying, with nary a bottle of color in sight. I haven’t colored my hair since I was in college and I semi-regularly tinted my short locks black.
Still, it’s not like I’m HAPPY that I’m graying. I feel like I’m way too young for gray hair. Yeah, I’m not 22, but golly, I’m only 36! I have a baby! It seems like babies shouldn’t have mothers that have gray hair.
My husband has tried to silence my worries: “No one can even SEE your gray. I can’t see it.” I suspected his perspective were through his eyes of love. Now, I know that’s true, all because of a compliment I received from a friend’s husband.
He’s a great guy. I know him well; their family is a near-perfect match for ours — all the grown-ups get a long well, and all the kids do, too.
After church, he said to me, “I hope this doesn’t come out wrong, but I love all your gray hair. I think it looks great, and I hope you never dye it. I’m trying to convince [my wife] not to dye hers, either.”
Me: stunned silence for a moment. Then, ~oof!~ (That was the air being socked out of whatever remained of my pride over my “no-one-can-even-SEE-it” gray hair.) Then, I made a quick recovery, saying that I am so looking forward to being 60 or so and having longish, healthy, silver hair, and that I loved that look — but it was the getting-there part that was a little difficult, that I feel a little young to be graying so.
He smiled the whole time, showed me his graying beard that used to be red, and repeated that he thought my hair looked great. “Glowing.”