It’s been awhile since I posted about going gray, though I think about it every day. It reminds me a little of going sober in that way, though one will give you your life back and the other is just hair, afterall. Still, returning to a color I’d never actually seen before has turned into a real eye opener and a much slower ride than expected.
I wasn’t prepared for how long it would take to grow out my old color, which was some variation of dyed brown with blond highlights. The girl who used to cut my hair said she had a client who grew her gray out in six months (and then promptly went back to color). What I failed to hear was her client also had very short hair.
Hair grows at a rate of about a half an inch per month, or six inches in a year. Shoulder length hair is longer than six inches on most people. Nine months in, I can see a clear demarcation line midway down my head, so I’d guess I’m about halfway through growing out the old color if I keep my current length.
I actually just had it cut a couple of weeks ago. I changed stylists to someone that doesn’t talk down gray and who listened and steered me towards a shorter cut that I really love instead of more highlights.
I’ve had a few people say “love the blond!” which makes me feel like a liar. I could counter with a lengthy actually I’m growing out my gray and dark brown and technically the blond is old highlights bleached out by the pool and sun but thanks anyway! But it’s just facebook.
Some days the gray makes me feel old and invisible. Did you ever read Flowers for Algernon? It’s a short story about a mentally challenged janitor and lab mouse who both get supersmart from an experiment, but later slide back to their former states and worse. What’s even worse is they know it’s happening to them.
Six years ago, I lost upwards of 40 pounds. Talk about finding newfound power and confidence. I went from feeling invisible to invincible. Graying reminds me of the invisibility I used to feel when I was overweight. When I’m out with my lovely teenaged daughter, I especially notice how we’re all captivated by youth and beauty. I know I’ll never look young again.
The unexpected side is how gray makes me feel more youthful. Since I don’t care about protecting expensive highlights from the elements anymore, I’ve been swimming more this summer than in years. I don’t cover my hair with hats in the sun and I don’t have to buy special color-safe shampoo anymore. Not having to color every 3-4 weeks is freeing, even though I admittedly gaze longingly at pictures taken less than a year ago when I had color.
I love the way the front of my hair is turning out to be streaks of silver. The young woman who washed my hair before my last haircut said her mother keeps hoping the few gray hairs she has will turn into a lightning bolt streak. She says she’d kill for what I have. It’s odd what feels like a compliment when you’re going gray. It’s wonderful how kind people can be.
My husband has been my biggest cheerleader from the start. Anytime I make him swear to give his honest opinion, he carefully tells me he can hardly tell where the old and new color meet. He has a fair amount of gray that he never considered coloring, and of course being a man, he wears it wonderfully. And really, anyone can.
I’m probably about halfway through the process and hopefully through the worst of it. I’d say months 4-8 were the hardest because I couldn’t tell what it would look like but felt the fallout of looking older. If anyone reading this is in that in-between place, hang in there. It definitely gets better.