I did it. I've gone over to the other side. After years of denial and covert warfare I have finally embraced it. My grey hair. Correction - white hair.
Unlike almost all women in their 30’s who moan about a couple of wayward strands, I am totally white. It runs in my father’s side of the family, who all seem to go salt n’ pepper in their early twenties. And after years of dyeing I’ve given up. I just don’t have the time or the money anymore. My hair grows fast, so after a couple of weeks of fake raven-haired glory the tell tale snow white roots were plain for all to see. Who was I kidding? And it really looked awful. It was actually my vanity, rather than lack of, that clinched it.
I don’t feel girlish and cute anymore, but I do feel powerful. It’s a statement whether I intend it or not. I get a lot of compliments - from women. Almost like a respect thing – a ‘well done for you!’ - although most admit they are still addicted to the dye themselves and wouldn’t dare go the full monty.
Unexpectedly I also get a lot of kudos from the 5 year old girls in my son’s class- ‘You’ve got white hair like Anna!’. Thank god for Frozen, its feminist undertones supporting go-getting school girls and washed-out 35 year old mums alike.
There’s just one thing I’d like to make clear. It’s only the hair on my head that’s white. All my other hair is still naturally black…. for now at least!