Going Gray

“Gray hair is a crown of glory…“

Proverbs 16:31 (NLT)

I struggled with this verse for many years. My thoughts about gray hair were, “Gray hair makes me feel old and I am hiding it the best I can.” But things have changed and so have I.

I found my first white hair when I was twenty-five and pregnant with my second child. I was getting ready for my monthly prenatal visit, and there it was, shining in all of its glory. Taking a closer look, I found a couple more. Later that day, when my doctor asked me how I was feeling, I told him about the white hairs. He smiled and told me pregnancy had nothing to do with them and all was well. Easy for him to say.

I had my hair high-lighted, low-lighted and all-over colored, trying to hide the whites. Eventually I considered going natural and giving up my addiction to the dye bottle. I thought the choice was all mine, but I was paying money to have my hair dyed at a salon, and my stylist had strong opinions on my hair options.

“I’m thinking about letting my hair go natural and stopping the dye,” I sheepishly told my stylist as I sat in the chair. I watched her in the mirror as she stood behind me with her hands in my hair.

Shock and awe appeared on her face. Seconds later a look of pity surfaced. It was as if my stylist had received news of a national tragedy or a death in the family. Maybe it was the loss of a monthly hair dyeing fee. My stylist informed me it was a bad idea to stop dyeing my hair so we religiously chased my white roots every 4 weeks.

I began hearing negative information about the toxins in hair dye and the allergic reactions many people unexpectedly develop. I had experienced some itching and burning so I was concerned. Besides, the hair dyeing experience was not what I would consider pure fun. I could live without the smell, the expense, and the time at the salon.

A few months later I worked up my courage to revisit the subject, but this time I was determined. My decision was made. No turning back, though none go with me.

January of 2008, I informed my stylist I was ready to stop dyeing.

“You’re too young to go gray,” she told me.

“Tell that to my hair follicles,” I said.

“You look young for your age, but gray hair will make you look old,” she replied.

“I’m only changing my hair color. I will still take care of myself. I’m not going to fall apart,” I assured her.

“You will look like a homeless woman,” she proceeded.

A homeless woman was not the look I wanted to achieve.

I did it anyway.

It has been eight years since I stopped the dye. I love the shine and softness of my hair. I feel as though my hair has lightened my countenance. The other day my husband told me how well my eyes match my hair. I now agree with the writer of Proverbs. “Gray hair is a crown of glory.”

I haven’t decided what to call my natural hair color. Sometimes I say I’m gray, but other times I say I am silver. Whatever my hair color may be, it’s all me.