My Midlife Project

Remodeling a Middle-Aged Mom

Silver Threads Among the Gold

“It is not by the gray of the hair that one knows the age of the heart.”

~Edward Bulwer-Lytton

Me in a tutu B&W

Whenever one of those survey-type questionnaires asks if I see the world as “black and white” or  “shades of gray”, I always answer “shades of gray”.

I definitely see shades of gray in every situation….

Well, almost.

I’m apparently color blind when it comes to my hair.

Yesterday, as my stylist was finishing up my haircut, she asked me — not too gently, I might add — if I was ready to do something about all that gray in my hair.

Gray? What gray?

I chuckled… because I thought she was joking.

She wasn’t joking.

Seriously? I have gray hair? How can that be? I’m only 57 years old…. I can’t possibly be gray.

Needless to say, I went home and looked in the mirror. I already knew I had a FEW strands of white/silver/gray mixed in with my naturally blonde hair… but enough to color?

I looked and looked…. but I couldn’t see it.

When my husband — who has been gray since his early thirties– came home, I told him what my stylist had said.

He looked shocked.

“Gray? What gray?”

I guess he hasn’t noticed it, either…

And considering that the Husband is twelve inches taller than I am, he spends a lot of time looking at the top of my head.

So what gives?

At this point, I could go in two different directions with this…. The High Road or the Low Road.

Maybe it’s me….

Or maybe it’s her.

I think there is something inside of all of us that doesn’t want to see the aging process.

Sure… we peer into the mirror and focus on our flaws. But I think there’s a little something in each of us that chooses to see ourself through a soft focus lens.

And we believe we are still twenty-three.

Oh, wait. Maybe THAT is just me…

Many years ago, I read somewhere that we tend to view ourselves as we were at twelve… Which explained why I always saw myself as slightly chubby and awkward and my ex-husband always saw himself as a hunk.

No matter how awkward I may or may not have been at twelve, this much I know — I did NOT have gray hair back then.

Yet I felt like I was back in 8th grade yesterday.

Awkward. Slightly chubby…

And the object of a mean girl’s remark.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not denying that I have gray hair. I’m not saying I have just a few. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with coloring the gray…

I’m just saying I don’t see them. My Husband doesn’t see them. My children don’t see them.

If a tree falls in the forest and nobody hears it, does it make a sound?

If my hair turns gray and nobody sees it, does it make me look old?

Oops… Out of time. I’ve got to run to the store.

If you need me, I’ll be in the Hair Care aisle…

About Brenda

Morning person. Introvert. Longtime runner. Erratic sleeper. Fitness junkie. Lifelong learner. Coffee addict. Volunteer. Health/Wellness advocate. Coach. Blogger.

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