Each morning when I look in the mirror, it seems like the melanin in yet another hair has just gone on permanent strike. Seriously? I haven’t even officially hit my 38th birthday.
I thought that I was some kind of oddity. Maybe it was the result of ‘rona stress. My family didn’t gray this early. This couldn’t be right.
Or was it?
It finally dawned on me. All of my older family members had been running around with brown, black, and a scattered few, silver hair for most of the past almost four decades that I’ve been alive, but I finally realized how naive I had been. I felt so deceived. But as people have been getting back to their, a-hem, roots, quarantine living has been telling on some folks!
That longevity hadn’t been provided by genetics, it was compliments of dutiful bi-weekly salon appointments, committed periodic applications of Grecian Formula, and some pretty fantastic wigs. So now, as this salt settles into my dark brown hair, the question I toy with daily is, ‘so what do I do with these grays??’
When did you first *really* start noticing grays? What do you do with yours? Do you leave them, pluck them, or dye them?
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