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!