Losing Pigmentation

I think it was in my early thirties that I noticed my first gray hair.  I couldn't miss it; it grew straight up in a weird, zig-zag pattern from the middle of my part.  Envisioning a hairdo like Einstein if I left it there, I immediately plucked it out and went on about my day.  It grew back, I plucked it.  It grew back and brought some friends and I plucked those too. Eventually, I did realize that I could not keep plucking these unwanted strangers from my hairline and I immediately started dying my entire head instead.  Thinking back on it now, it was probably five gray hairs no one but me noticed, but I still felt compelled to hide them away.

For the next twentyish years, I mostly dyed my hair. (I did have two years in there where I was super green and cleaned house using only vinegar, didn't dye my hair, and tried natural deodorant.  My house always smelled like we were coloring eggs and I just smelled.)   I used box dye, had a friend dye it, paid a lot of money to have professionals dye it, and paid a little bit of money and a lot of time to have student professionals dye it.  I kept it the same color as my natural hair because I liked my natural color, just not the gray popping up in it.  I committed to every eight to ten weeks to go and sit and let chemicals leach into my hair and probably my skin in order to keep my hair the way I remembered it: not black, very dark brown, occasionally sun-kissed with a tiny bit of red.  

This worked well for many years until the gray became more abundant and harder to cover and the dye didn't last as long.  I would leave the stylist chair with hair that looked dyed for two days, looked amazing for a week, and then looked faded too soon after.  Was it worth my time, the money, and all these chemicals? Probably not but I guess I am more vain than I thought and kept it up. Until last year.  There was a lot of change in this last year and keeping up the cost and effort of hiding gray hair just seemed silly. Of all the things happening within this aging, perimenopausal/menopausal body, spending so much effort on coloring grays seemed less important than finding some estrogen, being active, and acknowledging that I am indeed 51 years old and it's okay to let some of it go.

So, I let it go. I am no longer dying my hair. I haven't since October.  And it is growing out and looking a hot mess and I am mostly okay with that.  I don't want to gray blend it or low light it or any of the things my hairdresser tells me I can do.  Just let it grow and grow out.  And boy is it!  The gray is really coming in and the bottom portions are so much lighter and I feel like people are looking at me and wondering if I know how bad my hair looks.  Oh, I know.  In retrospect, I should have stopped dying it during COVID, but I was dating this younger, hot man (see my person) and couldn't reveal I was a cryptkeeper!  Now that he wakes up next to me every day, he can know the truth.

If I seem very calm about this, please know I am not.  I was extremely jealous when I was with my sisters earlier this summer and counted maybe ten gray hairs between them.  Rude. I have a vision of myself in my mind's eye where I must be in my mid-thirties and when I look in a mirror I am shocked to not find her there.  Some days, I take in the gray and think "You beautiful Earth goddess!".  Okay, that has happened just once or twice.  Most days, I look and think "You frightening sea witch."  So, this is me in my sea witch era and mostly embracing it. Okay, kind of embracing it.  Um, more like admitting that I am in my sea witch era.

Sea Witch

Earth goddess

One day, all the dyed parts will grow out or be cut off and I will have only my natural hair.  And my natural hair at this time in my life is dark brown, not black, and quite a bit of gray.  Maybe I will have some cool white streaks.  Maybe I will have gorgeous salt and pepper hair.  Maybe I will encourage someone else to give up the dye! Or maybe I will encourage someone else to never give up the dye!  Aging is a funny process and hits us all in the vanity pretty hard. Right now my concern is with how to keep my body active and strong and not how to keep my hair one color.  There is only so much time in a day and I can now be in and out of a hair cut in 30 minutes as opposed to two hours.  90 more minutes to read a book or take a walk or a nap.  90 more minutes to do things I care about instead of something I felt I should care about.  That seems like time better spent. So, if you need me, I will be in my sea cave, combing through this weird hair with a shell, and plotting the overthrow of society.  Who's in?