Clear Hair Theory

Ah, autumn. The shifting seasons, cool breezes, warm colors, pumpkin spice lattes, changing leaves. And this year, more than the leaves have changed colors.

My hair follicles have joined the ranks.

Does it make me a shallow, vain person if my first gray hair sighting snagged my spirits? I was fixing my hair in the work bathroom, and a two-inch strand caught the glorious fluorescent light. Proof of my mortality has sprouted. And I’m going to be old someday.

Now I’m face-to-face with my values, once again. I would gladly tell anyone that every woman’s natural beauty is a gift from God. This includes all sizes, shapes and colors. So why, when I find a perceived flaw, do I start googling about color treating my hair?

Just as it can be work to not cringe when I have to switch to my “big girl jeans” when the tight ones don’t fit, I’ll work at embracing my ever-growing age with gratitude. But, hopefully, that work is a few years off …

My hubs informed me that the hair is in fact clear, not gray. So it hasn’t actually changed color — it’s just lost color. I’m choosing to forget all the times he insisted his shirt was green and matched perfectly with his khakis; or he wore black, navy and brown all commingled together; or he told people he wore white shorts when they were certainly not white.

I’m sticking to the clear hair theory.