Ok I am being dramatic… I have had grey hairs since I was about 8. I remember the day my best friend found them whilst braiding my hair in the school playground. She assured me she wouldn’t tell anyone but.. You cant trust an 8year-old with a secret lol
That experience didn’t really scar me, but coupled with my many failed trips to the salon where I have been told numerous times to “cover those greys” or that I’m too young to have “soooooooo many” (what gives people the right to twist up their mouths t dictate how my body should age btw?)
My mum said its because I have an old soul, which I think is quite a romantic notion and my sisters have been ripping them out of my head for the past two decades. Me? Im over it.
Now that I am nearing the age where my friends have started noticing their grey hairs and panicking, now that I am at the time where traditionally I would reach for my first bottle of dye… Now? I just don’t care, not anymore.
I was sitting in a room with 4 other people the other day and I had realised that I had lied to each of them about my age (I know I am a weirdo) but back in the day I wasn’t always comfortable with telling people how old I am. Its quite funny because I have never been as old as I am at this exact moment but I have equally not been as comfortable with it as I am now at this exact moment.
Shaving off months and years became synonymous with trying to hide my grey hairs. No they don’t really hurt to pull out but what is the point really? They are my truth.
I realised, while sitting in this room, that if the subject of age came up I would be left in a pretty awkward situation. I think that as women we have been told that your beauty has an expiration date. Maybe not in those exact words but definitely with that message. I felt for a long time that the older I got, the more OBVIOUSLY older I got, the less I would be worth, and that is pure and utter crap.
My dad reminds me FREQUENTLY that youth is infact wasted on the young and I think he may have a point. Soon I won’t look 19 or 20 or 21 or whatever age everyone thinks I am even though I very only share my birthday every year.
Soon I will be in my thirties and there is nothing I can do about it, so why run away from it? The older I get the more I realise that it isn’t getting old. Its ageing yes but it isn’t withering away, it isn’t crumbling or decaying. It is blossoming, it is growing and it is learning things about myself and about the world that I just didn’t know before. I recently wrote a letter to my younger self (have a read if you like) and it has kind made me feel like I am not old enough to do that. Imagine in 20 years time how much I will have to say to the me of now, how little I will say that I knew in my 20’s. That is the beauty of it though isn’t it. The growing, the learning and so on.
I am excited to see what I am going to learn & what I am going to do in the next few years. Question; am I excited for more grey hairs? Not really BUT I am done trying to be younger especially when growing is so much fun.
Don’t stress my new acceptance of age/ hair colour will not change the way I work or blog or post sassy selfies on instagram, no no I might be grown but I’m still here lol