My hair is falling out, my chin is breaking out, and my mind is freaking out, all over one ginormous decision: to color or not to color?
That’s right: I’m going gray. At 42 years old my temples are threatening to turn me into the Bride of Frankenstein.
And I am not a Science Fiction fan. (Well…Star Wars doesn’t count in my book. It’s like Sci Fi for lightweights.)
See, the problem is three-fold.
One: to dye my hair would be to go against everything I’ve always said. I always swore I wouldn’t color my hair. “Just go with it. Don’t hide who you are. Be real.”
Enough of that hippy mumbo-jumbo. I look older than my husband.
Okay, I am older than my husband.
But I look really older than my husband. And that’s just not right.
Two: I don’t like drawing attention to the way I look. Don’t get me wrong: I like attention. It’s one of my fatal flaws. But what I like is attention for the things I do. Not for the way I look. Why? Because I’m insecure about the way I look.
But enough about that. Let’s not draw attention to THAT anymore.
But my fear, see, is that to color my hair will draw attention to me – and that when people see and comment on my hair, they’ll see and think about the fact that I’m not a slim as I ought to be. They’ll see and think about the fact that I don’t like to wear makeup and that the underside of my upper arms jiggle when I wave goodbye.
NOTE TO SELF: Never wave in front of people who don’t love me.
And, finally, three: I’m lazy and cheap when it comes to my hair. This means that I don’t want to spend a lot of money on dying my hair because I know I’ll have to keep it up which means I’ll have to make appointments (and I don’t like the telephone) and I’ll have to fuss with it and I’ll have to miss writing time to go to said appointments and I’ll have to sit in the hair salon and listen to people gossiping and smell that perm-scented air and…
Okay…admittedly, my fear of hair salons sounds a little outdated. I mean, do people still perm their hair? But still…I don’t like salons. Again, they make people focus on how I look and that stresses me out.
Okay. I guess I’ve carried on long enough so I’ll shut up now. I just wanted to share my anxiety with you all, my support group.
Wait…I just thought of one other thing to be afraid of concerning my hair. I’m afraid, when it comes right down to it, that if I color my hair I’ll hate it and be stuck with it until it grows out and everyone who sees it will say, “Oh, you did something to your hair” they way they say, “Oh, you got a haircut” but they don’t say that they like said haircut…or they say this: “Oh, you cut your hair. It’s SO much better.”
UGH. I thought that insecurities would leave me when I passed puberty.
I thought zits would, too.
Boy, was I wrong.