While fixing my hair in the mirror, something caught my eye. I could swear I saw a sparkle as I pushed my bangs into place.. Nah, I’m probably imagining it. In fact, it’s probably just these old highlights. Time to get my hair fixed up again anyway, and…WAIT! Right there! I’d really seen it this time. Like a strand of tinsel hiding in the dark brown.
I leaned toward the mirror and practiced deep breaths while I tracked down the offending hair. I slowly and methodically peeled away the other strands until I held it, alone between my fingertips.
Not brown. Not an old highlight either. This mutant colour went all the way down to the scalp.
I pulled sharply and brought the hair in front of my face. Are you freakin’ kidding me? Surely this was not anything that belonged on my head.
What I held before me was silvery-white. Not grey. Shimmering and white.
“JASON!“ I yelled, as I bolted downstairs and threw it onto his Ipad screen, forcing him to see it too. “LOOK! That came from ME!”
Jason shrugged and said something very annoying, like, “well, that’s life,” clearly not understanding the harrowing gravitas of this moment.. You see, I simply cannot go grey. This had to be a mistake. I am NOT going grey.
I forced him to examine my glorious scalp of heretofore young, lustrous and healthy hair. Do you know what he did? He found another one and pulled it out! The bastard! He put it next to its sister and I stared at them both dumbly. These strands looked thick, resilient and strong, but they were undoubtedly….white.
I demanded to know if there were any more. I begged Jason, in a slightly frantic tone, to tell me the truth.
Jason, not being a stupid man, sensed the effect this was having on my now hazardous mood and elected for the peaceful route. He lied to me.
And of course, I bought it.. Ha. I’m not actually going grey. Just a couple of weird hairs. And we pulled them out anyway. I mean, I’m not even 40, there’s no way!
The relief lasted until the next day, when I spoke to a girlfriend with an honest streak. “Oh, you’ve got greys,” she said, as she indulged me, by also examining my scalp, “I can see a bunch.”
At first, I was upset. I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone else. However, I found myself intrigued enough by this new thing that it just kept popping into my mind and out of my mouth. I told some of my friends, but almost every time I had the conversation, something funny would happen. The friend in question would lower their voice and say, actually, I’ve found a few myself…
Excuse me? My friends. My young and sexy friends are going grey? Impossible.
I called my parents and told my mother over the phone “Oooh, you’ve got your father’s genetics.” she said, quickly absolving herself of any blame in this tragedy. She did have a point. I’m not sure the woman has a strand of grey yet. My father, on the other hand, is plenty grey, but I swear his started later. He offered his encouragement and declared that I should “wear it with pride.”
Proud or not, I did some quick googling. There is evidence to suggest that some grey can be caused by stress (hellooooo pandemic years), and because of that, some people think it can be reversed.
Reversed! Ok, the evidence for that is shaky, but here’s what I’ve managed to gather: If you are stressed, you need to relax. (Deep stuff.) You also need to eat plants. Lots of plants. (You think that’s enough plants? No. Not enough. More! Go crazy with them.) Because some raw food vegans swear their diets have reversed grey. However, even if you stuff yourself on exotic fruits and cruciferous veggies, you still just might be doomed to snow on the roof.
Hmm…Can I get an estimate on how long this all-salad approach will take?
This whole thing is weird. Up until now, I hadn’t even considered the prospect of grey hair. I wasn’t expecting it to show up for a few decades yet. I’ve always said that if I did go grey, I would just dye my hair anyway. That I didn’t want grey hair. That I would never “embrace it.”
But when I first saw it, it was beautiful. It didn’t strike me as ugly at all. When I spotted it, it shone silvery whilte. It looked like it belonged to a unicorn or something. Like…kinda pretty.
Honestly, I’m probably going to keep dying my hair. Not to hide the new “sparkles,” but because I still think lime green, blue, magenta and purple are more fun colours than anything I can grow naturally.
Still, I might just let my silvers show through. Once I earn a few more of them. They’re not so bad.
4 thoughts on “Tinsel in My Hair”
My hair started to turn silver in my twenties. Now there’s almost more silver than brown and I’m only 37.
So glad to be in good company! 🙂
be at peace. white hair isn’t always a sign of age — my grandmother and mother both went white starting in their twenties. you’re definitely lovely and young whatever the color! plus white is an awesome accent for colorful
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