Wednesday, 21 January 2015

Black or white?
More like stuck in the grey area!
Another afternoon at the hairdressers.  An appointment I have become more reluctant to make these days because I know I will ask the same questions, probably get the same responses and leave the salon, only to continue procrastinating as to whether the time has come. 

Aren't things mostly black or white?  Up until now I loved my hair …… black.  It has been my better feature and one I had been especially fond of.  In the eighties when hair styles were up and out, teased and tussled into organised messes I was envied for my luscious locks and was blessed with the ability to get exceptionally  “big hair”, one of the fashion statements of that era. 

Over the years my hair has taken many twists and turns (no pun intended).   I once had it short during my second pregnancy.  Not sure why, but pregnancy did strange things to me.  All I can say is “my hormones made me do it”!  But mostly my hair stayed somewhere between my shoulder blades and my waist.

I was always happy and content with the colour.  I never, ever desired to be blonde; I was already having all the fun I wanted and I actually could never imagine myself any other shade.  I rarely spent time and money at the hairdressers, needing only a trim here and there and when I did lash out on some blue flashes at times; results of random, unexplainable acts of boredom, I felt I had done my bit to keep up with the trends. But now, OMG
how things have changed!  My luscious locks are a lot thinner, cut into the mandatory shoulder length bob which so many women of my age, wear.  I reason this shorter style helps with the counter balancing of my relaxing jaw line and under chin area so this common sense style suits me, and I must say I feel a lot more chic than when my solution was to lazily pull my hair back into the versatile but lack lustre pony tail. 

My biggest issue these days is that my hair has become such high maintenance.   Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind heading to the salon for some ‘me’ time every once in a while and with a hairdresser I can trust, it can be a very pleasant couple of hours.  A quick cut and blow dry with a side of nice, casual conversation about nothing in particular; usually just idle chitter chatter to fill in the otherwise uncomfortable silence or to divert my intense gaze as I watch the scissors take on a life of their own, zealously snipping away at my dripping, wet hair.  (I often admire how well hairdressers can multi-task).

But now more serious decisions are imminent.  When and how do I succumb to my 'greys' which by now, certainly, are most likely “whites”?   When is the time right to expose my truth, to brazenly display my real colour to the world?  To say “hey, here I am, this is me, my white hair and I, embracing the changes that come with age proudly, confidently and with blatant un-abandonment.  

With that said, even more perplexing to me is the “how” part.  This has led me to some long and prickly conversations; obvious solutions that only sent me into despair as I tried to imagine me with a shaved head or white crew cut.  I could offer my head to charity but don’t they say that charity begins at home and wow, shaving off my mane sure doesn't feel charitable to me no matter how I look at it.   Then there is the “grow it out” solution.   Definitely an option but I can handle the sight of the GT strip on the top of my head for only a certain amount of time and find the wider and more obvious it becomes the more I become obsessed with trying to hide it.  I fiddle and fuss and flip and flop my hair from side to side, painstakingly trying to take away any attention from the top of my head.  But every clumsy fidget is like a bright, flashing neon sign drawing everyone’s gaze and focus to the fact that I have a massive white stripe down the centre of my mop.   What am I thinking?  I lose myself in self-absorption and self-consciousness. 

Streaks or foils are another option but I was told by an experienced hairdresser, “beware, they may turn your hair orange or even worse make it so brittle it will break off”.   Not likely, thanks.   Again I go out and buy a colour and do what I have been doing for the last couple of years…….procrastinate.  This decision is for a time in the future and I am “parking” it for the time being unless of course, someone can convince me of a better way.  In the meantime I will try chemical free, natural, organic, organic henna, herbal, products free from peroxide, ammonia, resorcinol, PPD, heavy metals, parabens and synthetic fragrances…….. or, any other hair colouring creation I can find that will be kinder to my hair and my body.

To-day I will not be white.  I will leave that for another day.  To-day my hair will persist as black and my mind will relish in that “grey” area deciding that some decisions are simply just too hard, not black or white at all!

Footnote#
Do you have any tips or tales on how you navigated this precarious milestone?
Just sharing your own perception of my dilemma can help too, so please tell. 
We welcome your individuality and colour to our blog.  
Caring and sharing.   Be happy, be you.

PS:  I found an article with some great photos and “pros” for deciding to let go and let grey.

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