I don't dye my hair.
You know, it's just kind of expected. Women dye their hair. They just do. And they generally start dying it at a relatively young age, some times in their teens. Why? *shrugs* They want to brighten their color, darken their color, change their color altogether, or especially ... you, know. The other reason.
You know! *whispers* ... grays
But, I don't dye my hair. I used to when I was a teen, but I don't anymore.
And, believe it or not, I didn't stop because I got lazy.
I didn't stop because it was too expensive.
I was blessed with my first gray hair VERY early in my twenties. I was trying on clothes in a fitting room and I saw it: a silvery flash in the mirror. "What was that?" I turned my head slowly, back and forth, searching for the flash again. And there it was! I used my fingers to isolate it, amongst its brown neighbors. I was smiling! "How cool is that? My first gray hair." I didn't really think much of them over the next 5 years. One or two more popped up. I found if I pulled them out they would grow back in a short, pointy way, so I mainly just left them alone and they left me alone.
And then, I had a baby:
the most remarkable, amazing, otherworldly thing that has ever happened to me.
And I came home from our Birthing Center
and I looked in the mirror at my ravaged, drained, and exhausted self
and I had 5 brand new gray hairs. FIVE!
And it hit me.
Those 5 new gray hairs were evidence of the battle I had just been in. They were a badge of honor, of courage, of heroism. My life would forever be changed by the little girl I had come home with and my gray hairs showed that I was strong and would weather through anything life could throw at me.
So, yes. I don't dye my hair. I don't intend to.
I plan to forever cherish each and every one of my gray hairs. They are the reminders of every hard day I have faced head on and survived.