Life is a journey. And so is going gray.
That’s what my hairstylist said as she prepared to send me out into the world, naked roots and all.
For the past five years, I’ve been at war with my hair as it stubbornly changed color, texture and temperament. My bathroom counters are covered with pricey salon products and heating tools all meant to bend (or straighten) my headstrong hair to my will. None brought lasting satisfaction.
I went long. I went short. I even buzzed the underlayer in an attempt to thin the ranks to a more manageable defiance.
And always, I colored, covering the gray by boosting my natural brunette shades and brightening with blond highlights.
After every wallet-busting visit to the salon, I vowed “never again!” only to see my resolve crumble two weeks later while staring with horror into the bathroom mirror at the stark demarcation line that seemed to have sprouted overnight atop my head.
After two or three rounds of messy DIY root applications, I’d head back to the salon for another costly cover-up.
And so the damaging cycle was repeated.
Inspired by a co-worker who went gracefully gray and by another who never tried to tame her streaky mane, I finally made up my mind to go for it. Then a new acquaintance guessed my age as 15 years younger than I am, and I convinced myself to wait until after the holiday picture-taking season.
But the gray gods wouldn’t have it. A trip to the dentist in early December brought the prospect of unbudgeted dental work. What is it going to be, I asked myself, good teeth or good hair? It’s not as easy a decision as it sounds, but it was the push I needed to commit to freeing my natural hair color.
My stylist and I decided on a shorter cut with highlights to camouflage some of the gray as my hair grows out. When we were done, gray roots still exposed for all to see, I was having trouble wrapping by brain around how the transition was going to go down.
“Sooo, I just let it grow out?”
“Yes, you’re done coloring it.”
“Sooo, what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t color my roots; I should just let it go.”
“Look, there’s no avoiding the fact that as it grows out you’re not going to look your best. Just remember, it’s a journey, and I think that once you get there you’ll love it.”
And thus my journey began.
Until I get to that promised land, hats and headbands are going to be my thing. (Here’s a tip: Consider transitioning during the holidays when a Santa cap can be your best friend.)
Men with gray hair may look distinguished, but it’s a different story for women. I’ve accepted that I will look older — my age — but I’m also a little excited to see how my hair will grow out, whether I’ll have an edgy salt-and-pepper ’do, a dramatic sweep of gray or a smart silver bob.
Either way, my ticket is punched and I’m not turning back.
Share your stories of going gray and tips for getting there. Email me at cwilson@staradvertiser.com.
“She Speaks” is a weekly column by the women writers of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser. Reach Christie Wilson at cwilson@staradvertiser.com.
