Let’s Talk: Shades of Gray

29ca62d47c346008d7e1242625fdbd3eSorry to disappoint you if you totally thought this post was going down the path of Christian Gray and all that is 50 Shades. Well actually, 50 Shades of Gray is somewhat appropriate now that I think about it. Because as of this past Saturday night, I have close to 50 shades of gray….50 freaking shades of gray on TOP OF MY HEAD! And I’d be lying to you if I said I played it cool and didn’t freak out. I had a semi-major freakout.
Yep, I’m lying again; I had a major freakout that somewhat ruined my entire evening. Buzzfeed describes my feelings better than I could ever convey in words here.

My hair has been dyed since high school. I’ve asked my mom countless times how old she was when she started getting gray hairs. Of course since she has dyed her hair forever as well, she couldn’t really tell me. Or maybe she didn’t want to, figuring she would ruin the great and wonderful surprise of spotting your first “wisdom streaks”. As the Buzzfeed article says, I told myself for about ten mintues they were blonde until I asked my husband for his honest opinion. I know ladies, I know. But since it was his birthday, I had to accept his response without a huff or argument. And let’s face it, he was right. I’m going gray. All I can hear right now in the back of my mind is my mother saying how ridicuously hard it is to color gray hair. How within a matter of days the gray starts to show again. And yes I know, compared to so many things in life this really isn’t a big deal. It’s inevitable. It’s a right of passage, I get it.  But it is kind of a big deal to me right now. So just roll with me on my pity party train for a bit.

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One thing I can tell you….they are ugly, UGLY little hairs! They aren’t the “maybe someday I could pull off gray hair in that sophisticated, distinguished” way. Nope, these hairs are wirey, thick little bastards. On Saturday evening out for the hubby’s birthday dinner, I felt like everyone could see them, like little spotlights were dancing on my head. And since I have a husband that likes to tow the line between playful jabs and sending me into waterworks territory, this whole event made his birthday evening even more entertaining. I think the term “silver fox” left his lips more than once.

I’ve calmed down a bit and am taking it in stride. I know it’s not the end of the world, but for some reason it has left me feeling unsettled and a little sad. I’ve known those fine lines under my eyes have been looking at little deeper, the dark circles a bit harder to cover. And while I can try to spin it in a positive way – “these are my wisdom highlights”, I think I just need some time to accept that one, aging is a part of life and two, I really need to start some sort of “fountain of youth” fund for later down the road.

Think of me as I’ve still got three weeks to go until my next hair appointment. I’ve now got my hair salon on speed dial as eight weeks between dye jobs just ain’t gonna cut it no more. I guess I’ll be going super blonde sooner than I hoped! My husband, who still thinks this whole thing is hilarious (just wait until I see a gray in his head!), sent me the below. Yes it definitely could be worse…

058d2c43f6ae35940c768491bc602ca3Did you have a freakout when you found your first grays?

 

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