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2012 June 14

I found my first grey hair last night.

I am 34 years, one month and 11 days old.

And honestly, it hit me harder than I expected.

My mom has greys (though they are covered up nicely, shhh), my almost 40-year-old sister has greys, my dad HAD greys…before he lost them all.

So I suppose genetics never gave me any indication that I wouldn’t eventually get some myself, but somehow my mind continued to live in denial, assuming I would never be the one to look in the mirror, gasp, and then run to my husband, begging him to tell me it was really a random sun-bleached blonde strand in a head full of dark brown.

I realize that 34 is hardly halfway over the hill but for some reason, despite the mortgage, two kids, SUV and retirement plan, I have always felt like I was really still 22.

People kind of look at me like I am 22. I still like most of the music I liked when I was 22. I read many of the same magazines I did when I was 22. I eat in very much the same way that I did when I was 22 (for better or for worse…but mainly for worse, who are we kidding?).

So to suddenly be 34 and be looking 34 and be feeling 34 is…well, not very 22 of me.

This morning, that hair was still there. I didn’t pluck it, because we all know what comes of that.

But I didn’t have the time to stare at it.

I threw on my Ray-Bans and flip flops like I did when I was 22. I got in the car to drive Little D to school and the 90’s on 9  cranked out a song I loved when I was 22. I sat down at my desk and logged into Facebook as I would have done if it was around when I was 22. I chatted with my best friend, who was one of my best friends when I was 22.

And I realized that while the hairline may be whispering 34, as long as my soul is still screaming 22, at least some of the time, then I can embrace that hair.

I can relish in the new aches I have throughout my body. I can enjoy the fact that I am the one responsible for two little people now. I can be proud that my ideal Friday night involves me, my husband, some wine and maybe a DVD, that I will likely fall asleep in front of.

I can embrace that damn hair.

As long as another one doesn’t join it anytime soon.


*Photo via here

6 Responses
  1. June 14, 2012

    Embrace away – each and every new one that comes with it! I love your story posts…(also the finds posts, but especially the story posts). You have such a lovely voice.

  2. June 14, 2012

    The worst place for me to see gray is in my rearview mirror. I love my sunroof. I hate my sunroof. And yet, my rearview mirror is the best harbinger of when it’s time to get thee to the stylist. My BFF.

  3. June 14, 2012

    Embrace the grey!

    Why is that guys look good with grey hair? it’s not fair. There’s a bit of a trend in the UK celeb world to have blondy/grey hair, so if all else fails, you could try this approach, here’s an example:


  4. June 16, 2012

    Hey – we must be born within days of each other!

    I spotted my first grey already several years ago and have had one or two here and there since then. So don’t freak out. It doesn’t mean the start of middle age! 😉

  5. Liz permalink
    November 13, 2012

    I’ve finally decided its time to start coloring my hair to deal with the small cluster of greys that my bangs are no long hiding effectively. Just in time for my 32nd birthday next month!

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