Now that I’m in my 30s and (gasp!) graying, I’m starting to have empathy for the vanity-obsessed Queen of Snow White. Clearly, I wouldn’t go to crazy lengths and kill someone just to be considered the fairest of them all. There’s no point. All I have to do is drive up the street to the nearest Beverly Hills plastic surgeon or cosmetic dermatologist for a shot of the Fountain of Youth. I kid, I kid. But—and I think you’d agree, or at least pretend you do for my sake—what a cruel trick the aging gods play when they bless curse me with the monthly acne of an adolescent along with the wiry white wisps more fitting for a villainous witch.
It’s funny. I’m really not a witch. I’m really not that vain (emphasis added because I occasionally put effort into getting dressed up). And I’m really low maintenance. Even my husband, who takes longer to get ready than I do, would back this up as fact, not fiction. However, there’s something about gray hair that makes my nose immediately crinkle.
The hair texture is gnarly. It grows wild. And it admittedly makes me worry. Men look distinguished. That’s why George Clooney is almost every woman’s fantasy. And women look, well, aged tired less youthful. There, I said it. I don’t want to look old…yet.
Gray hair suggests that I should have the this parenting gig figured out. I certainly don’t and would hate if people thought me wise.
Gray hair suggests that I live with 100s of cats. And I hate cats.
Gray hair suggests that I could be a punk or hipster. I’m neither ‘cause I’m not nearly cool enough to rock those looks.
Gray hair suggests that I’m stressed. Well, this might actually be true. Sleep might help here.
Gray hair suggests that I'm 100% secure in my looks. I’m not. Perhaps someday, but I still have some maturing and perspective-gaining to do. Until then…
I pluck one. Then another. And, @$*%!, a few more. Since when do gray hairs multiply like rabbits?! I already have enough on my plate with battling the persistent (permanent?) dark circles of motherhood under my eyes.
~ The Other Sarah