It's Growing On Me

Don't you just love those Dove commercials. I mean look at that woman. She exudes confidence. She's the kind of woman you hope moves in next door to you and comes by for a glass of wine now and then and tells you her life story.

I'm at that age, when very many women have to make a decision. It's called going gray--to be or not to be. At forty-five, my mom's hair turned silver. You know, like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. At fifty, my granny had white hair. I'm now fifty-one, and after going through hair colors in my life time, ranging from blonde to brown to red, dark to light and light to dark, I had to start asking some of those questions...Is it true men look distinguished with graying hair, while women just look old? Will I look older with gray hair? Do I care if I look older? What's the big deal anyway?

I've been giving this a lot of thought. There are some people who look fantastic gray. I think Paula Deen looks fantastic with her snow-topped hair. Of course, Meryl Streep did in Prada, but Meryl Streep always looks good. Both of those women have makeup artists and hair stylists to make sure their silver locks look healthy and shiny and perfect. Real women like me, who buy Suave Shampoo because it's cheap, and go get haircuts when my hair has that 24 hour wind-blown look....what about us? How does gray hair look on real women?

We all will gray if we live long enough, and we all hope we live long enough. We all will get wrinkles and saggy jaws and saggy other things we don't need to mention. We can battle aging to the death (how's that for a pun) but in the end, we'll lose.
Why fight it?

I came to some realizations. One, even with Suave, my hair looks pretty thick and healthy. It has a little bounce, some shine, and my cut is still working for now. I realized if I was DATING, I would not go out with this hair but would go back to something that didn't quite scream, "How old is she???" when I walked into a room. But I'm not dating.

I found the only man I know for a fact I can get along with and love for the rest of my life without having to argue over stupid, petty stuff. He GETS me. He knows me and he GETS me. We are at that stage in our relationship where if I have to go to the restroom when we first are seated at a restaurant, he can order my drink, my food, and he will pick exactly what would have looked best to me on the menu.

He knows when to talk to me. He knows when to leave me alone. He knows when I am joking around and when I'm dead serious. He thinks I'm funny. He takes my side ALWAYS. (He's even learned some "Alabama speech" from being with me, even though he is from AZ. If some woman says something catty to me, he immediately follows it with, "Well that heifer!")

And he likes my hair. He likes it red, or brown, or blonde or gray or bald. He doesn't care. He's just as proud to be with me at McDonald's when I'm in sweats and no makeup as he is when I actually do dress up and put some on (although no example of my having done that in a LONGGGG time come to me now.) So why care if I look older if he likes it anyway?

I must admit being handed a senior menu in a restaurant sort of threw me the first time it happened, but hey, I got over it quickly. So gray is growing on me, literally.

I got out of my car at the library this morning, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the sun's reflection as I walked by the van parked next to me. My first thought was, "Who's that old lady? Oh, that's me. Well, not too bad!"

Now I'm researching all the old ladies who go gray and grow their hair long. THOSE are the role models I want to find next. I've never been much of a trail blazer but I follow blazed trails effortlessly, most of the time. So what is your opinion? My hair dye has gone the way of the acrylic nails, nail polish, pantyhose, high heeled shoes, and perfume. I guess it's true that women get more comfortable in their own skin the older they get, and in their own hair, too.