When I last blogged about my hair, I ended up writing this post. When I wrote it, it felt unfinished in a way. Yes, I had stopped coloring my hair. My natural hair color, pigmented or not, were growing out, and this was going to be how the rest of my life went with hair color. Sometimes I'd think about coloring it for fun. Sometimes I'd think about adding some highlights. But I never ended up doing anything.
In November of 2024, I cut my hair. I do normally cut it a few times a year, but this cut was special. This haircut was when I cut off the rest of my colored hair. I colored my hair for the last time in December 2022. It kept growing, and two years later, the remaining roots which were colored back in 2022 were cut off. For the first time in my life since I was 16 years old, I had completely virgin hair.
Every day is a new challenge when it comes to living with my premature greys. Some days, I'll look in the mirror and think to myself, "Hey, it doesn't look so bad today" as if I could convince myself I had less grey hairs on my head than I did the day before. Other days, I'll look in the mirror and want to start pulling them all out one by one because they look like they've taken over my entire head. And still, there are other days when I look in the mirror, see all my greys, and tell myself, "They look okay today."
As I've gotten older, my need to please others has gone down. I don't hang my value and worth on what everyone else says. There's still areas where I struggle with this, but when it comes to my hair, I've learned to put the comments aside. Over the last year, multiple people have made comments about noticing my greys. Some of them are shocked because as far as they can tell, it looks like I went from zero to grey in a few years. Little do they know I was hiding them for so many years already and this is merely just letting the facade fall.
My youngest is in kindergarten this year. The year I was in kindergarten was when a poignant comment about my mother's hair stayed with me forever. I had children almost 10 years earlier than my mother did. I am still younger than my mother was when I was born. By the time I'm as old as my mother was when I was in kindergarten, I will probably have the same amount of greys as she did. I think I'm luckier in some ways. Society now is much kinder regarding beauty, signs of "aging," and self-image. It's refreshing for me as a parent to see other parents and staff at my child's school embracing their natural hair color. And yes - there are still the parents who are 1000% put together and could be ready for a photo shoot at any minute.
I have one box of hair color sitting in the closet at home. Yes, it's nearly 3 years old. Someone out there is probably face-palming and secretly yelling at me to throw it away. Some days, I want to use it. I want to color my hair back to a uniform sea of black. I want to complete the picture of youthfulness nature took away from me naturally. But then, I'm reminded of how difficult these 3 years were to get through, growing my hair, leaving it uncolored, and wanting myself to be comfortable with myself. So I push through another day and don't look back.
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