Headlights and Highlights

I'm going for a change. I've decided to find my "natural beauty" and run with it, much to the dismay of my family and friends.


Five years ago, I experimented with my hair color and even my hairdresser loved it, despite his losing revenue. I stopped coloring my hair. I liked what I found ! It was white in the front and gradually went to gun metal gray in the back.


 I was born a blonde, was a towhead as a toddler and when I was a freshman in high school, was sabatoged by my sister and my mother with a box of "Summer Blonde." Turns out, as I entered puberty, one of my many changes was (horror of horrors!) my hair was turning dishwater blonde/light brown. (Frankly, I hadn't even noticed as I had several other changes going on that I found much more interesting.)


That night at dinner, my distinguished father made his opinion known, in no uncertain terms. Before he even sat down, he stood at his place and regaled us with the beauty of a nun's complexion. Nuns are beautiful because they do not mess with what God created. My heart slamming against my chest wall, I slunk down in my chair and professed that it was done to me, not by me. He looked at me as though I were still responsible. My guilt ruined the outcome for me but I continued the charade, covertly, through high school, gradually lightening my hair, so Dad wouldn't notice. (He was a doctor, it was never even remotely possible that he didn't notice.)


I know that I am blessed with "good hair." It's very thick, with a natural wave and I am grateful for the frequent compliments I'm given. I know too, that I'm lucky I have any hair at all, after having been married to a hairdresser for fifteen years. Every method/treatment/color was tried out first on me. I modeled in hair shows all over - Chicago, New York, Detroit & we won, almost every time, My ex-husband is a master hairdresser. I'd still go to him today, except I fear he'd give me the "Marie Antoinette"look.


When I last sported my silver hair, my youngest was living in France. On a visit home, when I picked her up at the airport she was thrilled with my decision. She liked what she saw. Three days later, at lunch, she stated "Mom. You've got to color your hair!" I questioned her about her initial impression at the airport and she'd since decided it made me look older. I pointed out that it made her  look older and that I would continue to wear it proudly.


Turns out, I was in the minority. Everyone who saw me, friends, family, co-workers, even bosses all had an opinion. And it was negative, and I caved. Back to the hairdresser, back to the process, back to blonde.


  Perhaps my hairdresser is encouraging me to go gray because I'm such a pain the ass to work on, all that thickness takes a lot of time to cover. The only thing that's thin about me (according to my cardiologist) is my vasculature...but that's a whole other blog.


Nonetheless, I love this stage of my life, I can stop coloring my hair and still be hip and that's just what I intend to do. It's a work in progress, it may take all summer, but I'm free to be me.


Make no mistake. I'll never give up my contact lenses. I do have some limits.


Here's lookin' at you ~