As I got closer to 40, you started appearing.
First, just here and there.
I easily plucked you from my head, defying the old wives's tale that I would get seven more grays for every one I pulled. Ha!
Sometimes you are very noticeable. Sometimes you appear in a small cluster. I really hate the kinky ones you seem to sprout up every now and then.
I'm not a vain woman, but vanity exists in me somewhere.
I choose to fight you. Keep you down. Hide you.
Yes. I color you. HaHa!
I'm not ashamed by you, but I remember my Nana saying she would color her own hair until she was old. She stopped when she was 70 claiming she was an "old lady" by then (hardly).
You look good on some women. They can show you off and look attractive, even glamorous.
You always look distinguished on gentlemen.
But, I will not let you take over my head just yet.
Thank God for my hairdresser. Now, you are lovely shades of copper that match my natural highlights.
And, like Nana, I'll likely hide you until I feel like an old lady too!
