Grandmas, great aunts, lunch ladies, church ladies...
They can keep the gray hair all to themselves.
Wait, I'm a great aunt (but I prefer the term "Fabulous Aunt")
I digress.
I've been dying my hair for at least 18 years.
I blame my mother.
My mom has a head of beautiful snow white hair.
It looks great on her...because she's my mother...and a grandma.
My first gray hair was found in high school by the guy sitting behind me.
I felt a little tug...a single hair being pulled by my classmate.
"Hey!" I said, whipping around in my seat.
"You have a white hair." he announced.
"Do not!" I said with utter certainty.
"Do too."
Not wanting to be called a liar he had another classmate confirm.
"Pull it out!" I insisted - he'd gone from foe to friend in no time flat.
With a yank, he presented me with a long white strand.
Not silver, not gray...white.
And that's where it all began...1983...17-years-old.
Fast forward to 2017.
I have about 3/4" of grow-out.
I am a skunk.
I surrender to the gray.
I've been perusing gray hair on Pinterest.
(Who knew it could be so pretty?)
So I began the transition...the long, excruciating transition.
I had a partial foil - blonde - but I'm using a shampoo that will cancel out the yellow tones.
It's beginning to look more white.
It blurs that skunky line.
And...
I like it.
I really like it.
but I like it.
So, L'Oreal, sayonara!
I'm a messy dyer so I have a drip on my cabinet to remind me of our years together.
I'll be fine without you but you might want to reign in the production of medium golden brown.
You just lost a frequent customer.
Nothing personal.
I'm just tired of the unending fight.
Gray wins.
I happily surrender.
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