Since I was in the 8th grade I have had strands of gray hair peppered throughout my hair. Miss Marthia, my P.E. teacher said to me, “Don’t pick them out because you’ll have more coming to the funeral”. I heeded her advice but more came anyway. People have often asked if I would color my hair to its natural black color. I respond by telling them no.
When I was much younger, I had very long hair. Because of the length of my hair the gray strands were not as prominent. About 5 years ago, I willingly and without coercion allowed my hairdresser to cut my hair to a much more manageable length. She had been hankering to do it for years. With my shorter haircut, a thick streak of gray became quite visible. People actually thought I had dyed it that way. It has become a conversation piece.
I have never applied any coloring or rinse to prevent nature from taking its natural course. It’s not like I don’t still have an abundance of my dark hair still present. But the gray population is increasing and I’m fine with that.
My hair is a part of who I am. I don’t feel the need to shy away from it. I look at each of those gray hairs as a rite of passage and a reason to celebrate. I have been blessed with relatively good health and still have the ability to move around independently. Those gray hairs don’t bother me at all. It’s for certain that I won’t be giving Clairol my dollars.
So I’ll say it loud, “I’m gray and I’m proud”. And while I’m at it I will take advantage of all the benefits of being a gray-headed senior.
SOURCE:
Personal experience