I have been dyeing my hair for over a third of my life, trying in vain to keep the silver from peeking out through the dark brown strands. I don't remember my exact age the first time I perused the aisle in the drugstore that I thought was reserved for grandmothers and employees of the world's oldest profession, but I know it was before I was married. For those of you who are trying to figure out the math, I was in my early twenties.
At first I could go months between colorings, because the grey was not really widespread. It was mostly an effort to keep it under control. I remember my dad going silver at a pretty early age, and then lamenting how much older it made him look. My mom always told him that if he had started coloring it when it first began, no one would have ever known and I took that to heart.
But it wasn't long before I was more salt than pepper in between colorings, and I just wasn't ready to have silver hair in my thirties. So I kept coloring my hair, but finding that the color was not lasting as long between times as it used to. So I started doing root touch-ups between colorings, and while thankful for the means to cover the silver I was not happy with all of the maintenance I was forced to provide. I am a comb my hair straight or throw it up in a pony tail kind of girl. I am a step below low maintenance when it comes to hair and makeup.
So while I am thankful for all of the years hair color has covered up my age increasing, youth decreasing silver, I think the time is approaching when I just leave it all behind and let my hair look the way God intended. Until someone asks me if I'm Trevor's mother....then all bets are off!