I have loads of grey and over the last few months they’ve multiplied faster than the speed of light. I’ve had grey hair since my teen years but it was a couple of strands. Over the last few years they have enlarged their territory on my head and the last few months have seen a serious colour makeover. Having greys has never been an issue with me – it’s just been what it is. I’ve noticed lately though that people look at my hair before they address me. It’s as though they are assessing at what level to pitch their conversation with me.
Somebody then asked why I do not dye my greys as my face looks younger than my hair. My instantaneous response was to say I am perfectly okay with my hair the way it is and I’m not one for chemical trifling with my hair. Sometime later though, when I had time to think of my interaction, it hit me that people are uncomfortable with dealing with those that are growing older, and nothing symbolises ageing like grey hair. It’s an interesting time in ones growth as it dawns on people that there are many years behind me. I wish they understood though that there are many years ahead as well, God willing, and as such I really cannot be fussing about frivolous things such as hair. I have the hair. I am grateful for that. I could be bald and not out of choice too. My hair colour is the least important thing in my space.
And I have always been told its a sign of wisdom. Maybe I am growing wiser – I sure hope so because I have exhibited very unwise behaviour in my past – and if I am growing wiser it is happening at an exponential rate right now. A very good friend said that should it start growing grey in her nether region, she will shave clean. I laughed at that but I got it. I shall keep my counsel on that, but yes, these become interesting observations. I am enjoying growing older but there are moments when I think “WTF??”. Fortunately for me, greying hair isn’t one of those times.