So I am busy working on a few rough edges and a friend of mine who is looking to add a new path to her life and I have worked out a little barter for the work.
I have some life changes that I have accepted recently and one of those is the natural progression of my hair to white. I have been unnaturally holding off this transition with a very strong relationship between me and Ms. Clairol, but we broke up. I stopped coloring my hair about 10 weeks ago and have the most amazing case of skunk hair.
I have actually gotten some really amazing comments, that have turned into conversations because of my "hairstyle".
Let's go back for just a minute to give you a bit of back story. I am a mom--have been a mom since I was 19--32 years to be exact, and for the most part I have loved it all. But not too terribly long ago on a trip to the grocery store, I was pushing my then 3 year old son and trying to pay for my groceries and not have to buy candy, toys or any more gotta haves as we got to the exit. The young lady who was working the register began to beep, beep scan our items and as I got close enough to the register for her to see the cutest little guy in the world setting in my cart, and she not so innocently asked me, "Is that your grandson?" I was first speechless, almost instantly upset and replied in a not too subtle state of disbelief "NO---he is my son!!"
I paid for my groceries, parked my buggy and picked up my son and told the now "not my favorite" cashier "I will be right back".
I marched myself over to the "hair care" aisle and purchased my first bottle of gray hiding color. I was in my mid 30's.
Since that time I have been fighting the root reveal every three to four weeks, sometimes splurging to get a profession color job and other times just paying my $9 at whatever store I was shopping that week. Its been a tough job keeping the gray away.
A few years ago I was growing tired of this little dance of hiding the obvious, and started thinking maybe it was time to go gray. While I can't say yet that I like my gray, its been a bit traumatic for me and my friends. Comments like "You are too young to be gray". "Gray hair will make you seem old" "Here is a gift certificate to get your hair done" (My favorite comment, but made me think...oh they hate the gray!)
So back to the main part of my story, my hair is gray. The part of my hair that has been covering my gray by being colored is getting further and further away from the roots...but I am not upset seeing my white roots.
I even had a very strange conversation with a young lady who wanted to know where I got my hair done. She seemed to think that the gray was a dye job and on purpose. Yeah...kinda surprised me too! We did the "ask the same question" conversation dance at least 4 rounds before she finally heard me when I answered..."I stopped dying it to cover the gray".
The most liberating part of my journey was the discovery of a book called, "Going Gray" by Anne Kreamer. I devoured the book and am seriously thinking about reading it again soon, as the reactions to my hair become as shocking as the change in my hair color. She not only took some what of a humorous look at this phase of her life, she did some experiments and fun with it too. It's a very good read.
I have also found a great blog that is a collaboration of 25 authors sharing tips, funny stories and their feelings on this hair-revolution. It's fascinating.
http://goinggrayblog.com/
So that brings me back to my main story. As I have been working with the "coach", one of the comments that came up more than once was my hair. What was shared seemed kind of aimed at how I must want to feel better about myself and maybe buy a wig. And it came up more than once.
So as I sat after we had talked and I thought about this comment I became very aware how none of the things I dislike about my personal appearance have anything to do with how I feel about myself. Now stop me if I am wrong or all alone, but how you see my physical self means nothing to me. I work hard to look presentable. Like to have my hair styled and combed when I meet folks. I even apply make up when I am sure a speaking engagement might turn into a photo op towards the end of the event. But I never feel bad if they take a bad photo.
I have even noticed more and more how hard some people work to make sure the picture is always their best picture ever taken, even stressing to retake over and over until just right. I don't like to have a bad photo, but once again it bears no weight if it's bad in the smile in my day. They work to develop a stance, a head position, perfect smile and whatever else configuration of self to where they always look the same. It even appears as if sometimes they are photo-shopped in--because the photos are so similar to every other photo they are in. They take the "pose" to a whole new level. Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind nor do I think it wrong, I just can't seem to find it within my desire to figure out a way to pose every time a camera is near. This most probably means if you wanted to find goofy pictures of my on facebook or in my phone, my "awkward" non posing count would be more than triple most everyone else. --but I don't care.
And lets even go past the hair for a second and talk about my weight. I am too heavy...not because I want to be thin but because for many years of my life I used food, mostly processed and not to great for me food as my drug of choice. I am in a challenge with myself to loose the weight, mostly because I want to feel better physically, but not because it will make me feel better about being me.
I am not really sure where on my journey I began to understand that happiness is a choice and whatever there is in my life that I cannot change at this moment, has the power to break me or I can take the power to be in charge of my happy. I guess you can understand which one I chose.
I don't need a new outfit to feel better about being me, or to loose weight to be ok. I am OK, good enough, happy and at peace because I have that right, and it is what I decide for myself.
I don't really know how to give that to others, but I see many who are hungry for it. They are seeking the next thing bought, the next pound lost or the next cream to smooth away what rubs them the wrong way. I can tell you than if anything rubs me, it doesn't get to do it for long, before I am working on a way to re-frame my itch to find my happy.
I like to think that all of this "relaxed" go with the flow thoughts have more to do with the natural progression that all of over over 50's are going through, but I think I might be wrong. Because I hear them--they talk about this $100 cream and that "procedure" and they keep trying to find a spot where they feel "better" about themselves. This kinda makes me sad...for two reasons, one--this body can be worked on, but it still is going to be the age that it is...as it is for everyone, and second--if the only way I feel ok is by manipulating some part of my physical self then I am going to have a rough journey for this last 1/3 of my life.
The body is tired, worn and a full evidential representation of all the things I have experienced--over eating, childbirth X 5, long nights of work, worry and wonderfuls. It is what it is. I can work to improve it, but no matter whether it holds up for another 50 or starts to fail me sooner, it is only the mileage that concerns me. My happy and well are tied to my spiritual self not the physical one.
So I am not really sure how to start the conversation that must happen when we next meet, but I am not upset with my gray hair or my size jeans or even the not so perfect smile. All those things about my physical self have come through the travel and are a part of the genes that I was gifted. They are not a curse, bad news or even something I have to suffer through. Would I rather be thinner? Well yeah, but I am not going to wait on a number to be happy! All parts of my life can move to better, in time, but this moment right here---well I am just gonna enjoy it anyway. I choose to be happy, in abundance. Forgive in excess. And to love all those who come to teach me, test me or even trust me to help them as they travel too. It's a pretty neat 51 year old story...I am in no hurry to see how it ends, but I am pretty darn sure they will say I left with my gray hair shining and my smile planted for all to see.
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