I embrace my old age and all the things that come with it. Most notably all the aches and pains. The senior discounts. The handicap pass. AARP. When my hair started turning grey ten years ago I welcomed this rite of passage. I relished it in fact. I was determined to be the lady with the white hair. In part because my nana was all grey/white at twenty-eight. And my aunt dyed her hair jet black as she got older. I loved their looks. And my mom's too, who had her hair frosted when I was growing up. As a teen I used SUN-IN to make my locks blond. But the natural redhead in me, used to come out. So I'd get frustrated. Seems all my life I waited to get older, so my hair would have character. So time marched forward and my hair got greyer and greyer. And I was okay with it. This is what I wanted. This also put my hubby and I on a more level playing field because his hair finally started turning too. Why is it that men look none the worse for wear as they age, but that women have to work at it? I'm just curious. Anyway, I was content to be older and be me. Grey hair and all. But when the hubby got the new job and left to spend more time on the road working with much younger people. I started to re-examine what I saw in the mirror. I had aged beyond my years. And I suddenly wanted to shake things up. So I did the unthinkable. In a weak moment, I reached for a box of Garnier and dyed my hair. I was in shock for the first week or two asking myself, "WHY?WHY?WHY?" But now I've gotten used to it. And I like it. My husband loves it. Thinks it looks marvelous. Makes me look younger. Takes me back to my roots. So for $7.50 I changed my life. Cheaper than a facelift, right? Now I'm worried I won't get the senior discount.
THIS IS MY HAIR BEFORE
THIS IS MY HAIR AFTER