My Mother colored her hair until she was 80, then stopped. Overnight, she became an old woman. It was jarring.
That’s what made me decide to have a youthful face with grey hair and grow into my age that way. So I colored my hair until 50 and then stopped.
Why even call it grey hair? Why not “natural hair?” Because that’s what it is. Your natural hair.
I did not like being a slave to the salon every three weeks. I got tired of the tyranny of “roots,” as if they were a demon to be exorcised. The maneuvering before a trip, how I would calculate when my roots would show.
When I stopped coloring my hair, the dry and brittle texture disappeared. My teenage, baby soft, shiny wonderfulness appeared. I am so happy not to spend all the time and money it takes to maintain a fiction.
“I wish I had hair like yours,” women say to me. Sometimes they ask, “Where do you get your hair colored?” It looks as if I pay a fortune for the effect. “All natural,” I say.
They sigh, afraid of what their grey might look like, and how they would feel about themselves. There is no one answer. It’s a plunge we all take, or don’t, at some moment. Like cosmetic surgery, its a personal decision. Do whatever makes you feel good.
One tip. If you wear makeup and let your hair go natural, go to your favorite brand and have a new look created for you, because changing hair color changes your complexion.
Just wanted to share my story. I have a date with a photographer and will post a pic of me real soon. Unretouched, I promise you!
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