I have never actually loved my hair in any way. It is too fine, too blah, disobedient, inglorious. I remember standing in front of the mirror when I was younger and bemoaning the lack of thick lusciousness that I admired and envied on the heads of—apparently—everyone else (especially, of course, on the heads of movie stars and super models; you know, ordinary people like that). Far from being my crowning glory, my hair felt like my naughty nemesis.
I can say that age does (or can) bring wisdom in this regard. Truly, all the stuff that made me feel so less-than, so lacking, so icky when I was younger begins to mean less and less. As you all know well from our blogging here, the best part of aging is caring less to measure yourself against others, and caring more about owning who you are, flat hair and all.
My hair turned grey well before its time. I mean, my dad had a whole head of grey hair in his 40s, so maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised, but my mother still doesn’t have much grey and she’s in her 70s (don’t tell her I told you!). It took me a while to notice because I’ve been a die-hard hair-colourer since way back. It was my hairdresser who finally pointed it out—not in a cruel way, but noting that she would need to keep the grey hairs in mind when she coloured. “Grey hairs?!!!” Arggghh. I watched my roots in horror as the random greys became the “skunk” became the “all over”. There it was—another unwelcome change I would have to make peace with.
And then my hair surprised me!
Those greying hairs that were winnowing their way under my artificial colour? They were also improving the texture of my fine hair, giving it more body and movement. Random—but once much coveted—flips and waves were suddenly animating the blah limpness. And if I brush it into a ‘do, it—finally, for the first time ever—staaaaaaaays!
So, while I’m not making any grand strides forward for the age-movement here, I did want to share the giddy news that not every change we’re predisposed to think of as “unfortunate” has a sigh-inducing outcome. No, some ends aren’t split at all. Some ends are smooth and silky and have a perky little bounce.
Deb: Barb, you are so very right, although as I write this I can’t help thinking of our blog tag-line which in part says “different opinions”, which I realize we rarely have. I think I’ll blog about that!
Annnnnnnnnnd back to this post––A hairdresser once told me that he found that his clients who take HRT (don’t you love the things we tell our hairdressers?) fared better in the hair department than woman who did their menopause naturally. My first thought was, “Why are you telling me this?” (given that I was not taking said drug), but as I got grey I experienced exactly what Barb has just said. My hair is bouncier than ever and I love it. I do dye my hair and plan on continuing to do so for some time. I highlight it too and it is really all about the highlights when it comes to hair body. Very recently a friend said that her hairdresser said it was time for her to go grey. She is 58 and her hairdresser said that we should let ourselves grey when we get a certain amount of grey, because as we age our faces take on a colour that supports the grey, and not the colour we are choosing. That may be true, but clearly I am not there yet as I like the way I look right now. I think there comes a day when every gal looks in the mirror and says, “It’s time.” And I will do it some day, but I can tell you for sure, it won’t be any time soon!