When I was a child, my mother instilled in me a love of my hair color. Although there were times that I had a love-hate relationship with it, I’ve come to enjoy it and actually think it’s one of my best features. I’m one of the estimated 1-2% of the population to have naturally red hair. With a wealth of Welsh, Irish and Scottish ancestors, it makes me feel like I’m embracing my genetic destiny.
My locks are not a fiery red like my mothers, but more a strawberry. Their hue changes with the seasons, blonder with the sun, and deeper and richer with the cold weather.
My mother, for all of her talk, heard vanity’s call and started dying her own gray hair when she was in her forties (as unlike people with other shades, reds typically start going gray much later in life). Thanks to a very dedicated hair professional, my mother’s flaming locks have not extinguished.
And although my shade is not as intense as my mother’s, although I’m pushing into my mid-forties, the unicorn strands of sparkle had, until this year, been appearing one at a time. But of late, they’ve started clustering. And not only on my head.
Now get your head out of my pants. I’m talking about my eyebrows. Which, behind my glasses, are starting to go very Mr. Magoo. And while admittedly, I keep the tweezers at the ready to pluck those stiff, unruly bastards from my face (although I don’t quite have car tweezers yet), I have been working to embrace the silver that is starting to encircle my crown.
Not to say I haven’t considered enhancement. With all the gorgeous pastels and I understand even temperature changing dyes will soon be available, I think I might consider adding a little purple or pink under lights once my full mane is complete.
What about you? Are you embracing the gray or dying it away?