Last Saturday as I was making my hair as fancy as I possibly could for a wedding (read that date night) we were going to, I discovered what I thought was a white hair. WHAT??!?!!??!!! Eyes wide I walk slowly into our bedroom and announce to Dave that I think I found a white hair. He gave me an exasperated look and a “you’ll have to worry about it later” because we were running so late at this point.
And worry about it later I did. And have. It’s definitely there. And the first thing I could think of was, “well crap, now I have to start dying my hair.”
Am I really that vain? Given my current state of fitness, do I have a right to be? Is one white hair that no one else can see really making a difference in my self esteem about me as a whole. Sadly, yes, yes it is. Maybe if I had found it years ago. Maybe if I had found it months from now. But now? Just a little under 3 months from my 30th birthday?? It’s hard for me to handle. It is a sign that life is continuing whether I’d like it to slow down or not. It is also a sign that perhaps I’m allowing stress to catch up with me on a serious hormonal level versus simply eating a bit more than I should when I need comfort.
No, I probably won’t start dying my hair (yet). Despite the hormones making it fall out whenever I get overstressed, I’ve still yet to touch it with harsh chemicals. My hairdresser back home finds that admirable and amazing so I’ll try to, at least, hold off as long as I possibly can.
Who knows…maybe it’ll end up being some kind of classy white strip that gives some character to my, otherwise, straight, some times wavy hair, rarely done up in anything other than a pony-tail, hair.
A Golden Day of Peace 