At 55, the decision to go gray took much more consternation and consideration than the decision to color my hair in my forties. When I turned 40, I attended an event with my sister who is 12 years older than I am. She colored her hair which kept her looking younger, and I had been showing the first strands of gray. Up until that point I loved and embraced my gray. I thought it was natural and beautiful, a part of aging gracefully, an organic process. But at that event somebody looked at my sister and then at me and said to me, “And you must be older?”
I was devastated.
That week I started coloring my hair. It felt a little weird at first, but my friends were also coloring their hair, so I looked the same nebulous age as everybody I was with. Sort of that non-descript, middle ground where you could be anywhere from 35-60.
I started seriously thinking about embracing my gray ten years later, when I turned 50. I was just flat-out tired of coloring my hair, of keeping up with the gray roots, and of the amount of time it took to color it. Like most women, my chosen color was getting lighter and lighter to try and mask the relentless gray roots that showed themselves afresh every week or so. It was a very busy time in my life, working full-time, getting a master’s degree, and taking care of my father, as well as trying to have some semblance of a social life. I really didn’t want to devote my precious mental resources to worrying about my hair.
I’m a minimalist at heart anyway. I try to keep my life as low-maintenance as practical.
Following through with the decision to go natural meant I would definitely look older than my contemporaries. The women, that is – most men don’t even consider covering their gray. The women, however, are a veritable cornucopia of colors. Anywhere from auburn, to blonde, to chestnut, to raven black.
When I mentioned going gray, my girlfriends and my hairdresser cringed. Why would I want to look old when there are still so many great years to live?
But to me the decision to go gray is a lot more than looking older. It is about looking natural. It is about my hair color naturally matching my age. If I project youthfulness, I want it to be because of my attitude, my energy, my fitness level, or my ethos, not because of my hair color.
Personally, I feel more beautiful with gray hair than I did as a blonde. It is a natural beauty, not contrived. It has been part of a redefining or awakening. I am vibrant on the inside and my hair color doesn’t change that at all. I am still adventurous and sporty, but I feel less weighed down. To be sure, it was an emotional adjustment, and it did take some self-cheerleading. But now I absolutely love it!
I was perhaps a little drastic when I finally did decide to go gray. Rather than letting the color grow out or doing a color-match, I cut all the blonde off at once, so I had a very short, boys’ haircut. My friends and family had all the jokes about me identifying as a lesbian. I was fine with that. My hair will grow out soon enough, and I can decide whether I want to keep it short or grow it long again.
I see many women into their late eighties still coloring their hair, and I don’t judge. Going gray is such a personal choice. It took me five years at least to make the decision to embrace my natural, silvery splendor. I regret nothing!
