Turning grey



Lately I’ve been trying to live more frugally so that I can continue to indulge my habit for buying expensive plane tickets. So I’ve cut back on lots of things. I don’t buy as many nuggets, I drive less to save on gas, I’m careful to only buy food that I need, and I no longer get my lady bits waxed. I’m also avoiding the urge to dye my hair lately.

Now if you know me, you know that I have the maturity of a 12-year-old boy.

If you know my mom, you know that she has aged extremely well. She’s in her 50’s, but I’ve seen people mistake her for late 30’s. My mother is aging with much grace and dignity.

Me on the other hand?

Not so much.

I’ve spent the last two years plucking a grey hair that has insisted on growing on my left temple. It would grow. I would pluck it. It would eventually grow back and I would pluck it again. Early grey hair is a thing on my dads side of the family and I had inherited that fun trait. So I waged a 2 year battle with this one grey hair that insisted on growing. It became my cat that came back the very next day.


Until this year when two more grey hairs joined the one that I had been waging a war against. At first I tried plucking all three of them. Except they would all grow back. They would grow back faster. Within weeks of plucking they would come back sparkling and happy. I would look in the mirror and they would be there, glittering away.

So I gave up. Now I’m letting them grow. I have made peace with my hair glitter.

Bring on the silver fox look!


At least this is how I felt until I went to maintain my lady garden last week and discovered a grey hair. I had taken my first swipe with the razor and examined the blades, as is my habit, and saw…glitter. One lonely piece of shining, sparkling, vibrant, silver among all of my dark carpet that matches my dark drapes. Except now my dark drapes with specks of silver now had a matching dark carpet with a speck of silver to match.

I frantically finished shaving and every time I would shave a stripe off I would search for more grey. I found none. There was just one lonely grey in my lady garden.

Now I’m writing this with most of the same horror that I felt last week when I initially found that my dark and silver drapes had a matching dark and silver carpet. I’m honestly not ready to be a silver fox!

And that’s ok.

I am vain and that’s ok.

I’ve decided that I am allowed to be vain and pluck my silver threading. Even if I somehow pluck myself bald. Then when the silver threading turns into salt and pepper shenanigans, it’ll be ok to dye my hair. I’m allowed to be crazy, insecure, and weird about these sorts of things. I am not ready to look my age and that’s ok.

I plan to age gracefully like my mother, even if I have to do it artificially. One shaved grey pube at a time if I must.

One thought on “Turning grey

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