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Ahhhhhhh. I have officially and proudly embraced the lighting in my bathroom and the reflection I see staring back at me (squinting, when I forget my contacts or glasses). I am “gray and ok”. Well, mixed in with the “Elvira” salt lick which now is expanding, just on my right side, is a hint of ground pepper….somewhere, all over. The song from “Flashdance”, “What a feeling” should be my theme song. No, I’m not dancing, literally, for my life, cause, hello, MS here, but I do have a sense of freedom to dance as just crazy, aging me.
Despite my mother’s best and well-intended efforts to say something nice (she really does love me very much), I’m sure she’s a bit wigged out over the fact her daughter, moi, is more gray-headed than she. Mom has a fun way of dancing around my gray and white shaded lack of color wheel. “I just LOVE your haircut”. Which, she does. What she’s not saying is, “Oh my! Are you poor and can’t afford Nice and Easy anymore?” Or, “Well, I know it’s probably hard for you to color your hair with MS, so I’ll just whisk you away to the girl who “does” my hair.” Or, “I know you weren’t laying in the road when that truck came by that paints the white lines in the street…..”
I will have to admit, it was dreadful letting the color “grow out”. I only have some old pictures to remind me of what my real hair color is…or was. Because, as my roots started to sprout like a Chia Pet, I realized my real hair color, now, is gray. As much as I tried to keep a lot of the old “color” cut out (Thank you, Jean, for performing miracles during that time.) the difference in the color and the peppered salt reminded me of an old redneck chick who forgot to touch up her roots. That was painful and slightly creepy. I could have been a calico cat for Halloween one year.
Going gray is an adventure. Gray hairs have a life all their own. And, each new one, seems more wire-like and oddly, resembles a Dr. Seuss hair style.(“We are HERE, we are HERE, they say as they demand attention.) They have the texture of old broom straws, at times. I have many mornings where I wake up, look in the mirror and see a Don King effect. Nice. I just laugh and pray the doorbell doesn’t ring until I take my shower.
Kermit the frog doesn’t seem to have it easy being green, but I’m finding it easy to be gray. Nice, easy and very wallet-friendly. I think, in time, my mom will warm up to the fact that my gray is ok, as long as I keep a nice cut.
A slight disclaimer here: Wanna color your hair? That’s cool with me. I have no judgement intended for anyone. Do your own thing. That’s what this is all about. Just being yourself, no matter what color, style or fashion appeals to you. (I may laugh at “pajama jeans” sightings out in public, but that’s a different story.) Being you may not always be easy, but it sure can be nice. And, if you or someone you know is in the growing process, always remember to be kind.