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I Found My First Gray Hair at 21. Now at 38, It’s My “Silver Lining” to Getting Older.

I’ll never forget the vein that popped out of the Mary Kay rep’s forehead when I – a plucky 25-year old convinced I’d live forever – announced at a Mary Kay party that my moisturizer had maybe an SPF of 10.

“WE START AGING WHEN WE’RE 15!” she exclaimed in my face.

I didn’t buy anything Mary Kay that day. Or ever again.

(FYI, our skin starts aging around or after 25, not 15).

I’ll be 39 in June, which is not old at all. But it means I’m knocking on the door of a decade where society’s pressure on women to look immaculate at all times shifts into full-on anti-aging bullying.

Like that Mary Kay lady’s outburst, except worse.

An aging “Catch 22”

Of all the ridiculous demands society makes of women, “not aging” sort of takes the cake.

If we make an effort to enhance our appearance, we’re cheating and not embracing our natural beauty. But if we embrace our natural beauty (i.e. forego any treatment whatsoever), then we’re not making an effort.

We can’t win.

Aging happens

Aging is a biological reality. It’s going to happen, whether we fill/lift/take collagen/go vegan or not. A recent New York Times article on “preventative Botox” even states that all it can do is postpone wrinkles, not stop them.

But the fears and standards about what it means to age are socially constructed. Basically, if we think the diet industry is bad, the anti-aging industry is a close second.

It was worth an estimated $58 billion in 2020, and that’s expected to grow to $88 billion by 2026.

It equates youth to beauty, and convinces people – particularly women – that they are less desirable and employable if they look old. But the “natural” beauty touted by the anti-aging industry looks nothing like our actual natural faces, and is so normalized that we’re compelled to “fix” ourselves.

This attitude is backed up by the fact that women can experience loss of wages and opportunities based on appearances alone. So it’s no wonder that the pressure to look ageless feels like a crushing but somehow necessary burden that women can’t seem to escape from.

Look for the silver lining

But between drowning out society’s concern about my chin sagging or my eggs shriveling up before I have a baby (even though I don’t want one), I’ve discovered a literal silver lining to getting older- my gray hair.

I found my first gray on the morning of my college graduation. I immediately plucked it, and would spend the next 13-ish years dying my roots in the name of not looking old.

No one physically forced me to dye my hair all those years. But it’s hard not to internalize comments about how much “better” brown roots looked. Plus, the perception is gray hair equals old, right? I wasn’t ready to feel that in my 20s.

I dyed my roots for the last time in November 2018. Some friends and coworkers praised my “bravery.” Which was odd, because all I was doing was growing hair from my head.

The first year was tough. I wanted it over with. I wanted to wake up one morning with hair like Storm from the X-Men and have that be that.

But the slow grow out process meant I also had to grow. I challenged my own views on what aging meant to me.

And since my hair continues to start interesting (and sometimes really awkward) conversations, I have plenty of chances to share my Gray Hair Manifesto.

You don’t owe the world “pretty”

There’s an Erin Mc Kean quote worth referencing here: “Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked ‘female.'”

I don’t owe society brown hair. Just like I don’t owe it youth, makeup, children, fitness, a juice cleanse, or any of the other things we’re told we’re “supposed” to do.

It’s ok if you’re still not Team Gray Hair after reading this post. I didn’t write it to change your mind (although if you did, welcome to the club!)

This post is about you knowing that you have way more options than society may have you think.

Growing out my grays was my choice. They’re literally a part of me, and I refuse to feel bad about them. It was like taking back a smidge of control from the anti-aging and beauty industry monsters.

Now, I get to grow into my hair as I get older. Which honestly, seems pretty cool.

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