Transitions...In Hair

The women in my family gray early--my paternal grandmother was gray by the age of twenty-five.

I managed to make it to thirty-five before my brown hair turned on me. I've been coloring my hair ever since. My hair grows quickly, so I've been touching up my roots every two weeks. It's annoying and expensive.

This spring I decided I was done with that, and I began the journey of transitioning my hair from dark brown to its natural color, which I assumed was battleship gray.

It's not. It's Arctic white, and I actually like the white color. Today I made it to the second-to-last stage, where it's a silvery/light ash blonde. Behold the new me:

The new me with no make up on other than eyeliner and lipstick that both need to be reapplied

When the salon does my hair, it always looks flat, so I will floof it when I style it, but this is the general gist of my hair.

When I first walked into the salon with my photos culled from Pinterest pics of fabulous gray hair with highlights, I showed them to my stylist, Melanie, who looked at me with pity as if to say "Oh, sweet summer child." She gently informed me that we couldn't transition my hair from dark brown to the stylish looks in the pics in one go. This would be a process.

The process:

I'm kind of irked at the process thing, because I made the hard decision to stop coloring my hair and wanted it done.

Months later, it's almost done.

I am now at the white/silver/ash-blonde phase. The next visit should be my last as far as color, because the white will (hopefully) be blending in with the pale ash of my my hair and will consume the blonde like a starving beast. One can only hope.

Blondes may have more fun, but I don't feel like I was meant to be a blonde.

Once the transition is complete, I'll have new author headshots taken so I don't look like I'm in denial about my white hair. I'm embracing the new look, and I'm happy to show the real me after all these years.

I think Arctic-white-haired women will have the most fun. Take that, blondes.