It’s been about a year since I found my first grey hair; I was strolling down the street in Liverpool to find a pub when my mum suddenly stopped me, right in the middle of the street. She then proceeded to pull about 10 strands of hair from my head in an attempt to get the grey – I’m sure she pulled more on purpose. I wasn’t best pleased with my decent in to salt and pepper locks, but it was only one so I didn’t pay it much notice.
Fast forward to today and the greys are taking over. The little b*****ds have well and truly set up shop in my long locks. It got to the stage where there were about 5 in the hair behind my ears, again I could cope with this, I just pulled the little feckers out. No problem, jobs a good ‘un. My mum, would tell me to calm down when I went crying to her telling her my life was over due to grey hairs ‘they’re only hairs Hayley, embrace it’. THAT’S ALRIGHT FOR YOU TO SAY ANNA, YOU’RE BLONDE YOU STUPID BLONDE HAIRED GREY HAIR HIDING WENCH. I ON THE OTHER HAND LOOK LIKE ME NAN.
Then there were more, they had invited their wiry grey friends round. Again, I put a brave face on (internal crying was a plenty) and didn’t show my shame and sadness to the world. Then last week I was getting ready to leave the comfort of my bed and Netflix when I found another grey… IN. MY. PARTING.
This was a whole new low. That was it. I started singing the ‘I’m On a Boat’ song, where he says ‘get your towels ready, shit’s about to go down’. Shit was gonna get serious.
I had places to go and people to avoid seeing, so I plucked it out and went on my merry prosecco drinking way, with plans on how to sort it out. I must have drank a fair bit of prosecco as I totally forgot about my latest rage inducing grey…. Until last night. DUM DUM DUMMMMM. I went to put my facial oil on before bed at precisely 12.20am, I checked, and then proceeded to spend the next 51 minutes plucking greys from my head. I couldn’t get them all, it was too much, there were too many, I was outnumbered…I had to accept my fate, I couldn’t hold them off as long as I thought I would be able to, and that if I kept on plucking them out pretty soon I would have large bald patches across my head.
They were everywhere, not just behind my ears where I thought they had settled, they had spread. In my parting, in my crown… Lord knows where else as I am not a contortionist and cannot see the back of my head. I sat and wondered if the hot physio guy I had just seen (for physio, not a date) had noticed them when my head was on his bed (again, for physio, get your mind out of the gutter). Had he asked himself why this 21 year old girl has grey wiry hairs on her head?
OK, I am not 21, but there’s the problem; I am 31 but look about 20-24, so when people are seeing these greys I am probably confusing them. I am now going to have to resign myself to box brown coloured hair, for the good of humanity.
This is a pretty pointless post, and many of you will be thinking FFS Hayley get a grip, it’s grey hair, at least your boobs are still perky. BUT I DON’T CARE. This is my first realisation that I am getting older, I am not the 22 year old I think I am in my head, and I am not the 20-24 year old I sometimes look like. That it doesn’t matter if I get asked for ID to play the lottery or buy gin, I am actually an aging woman in a world where we aren’t supposed to show age. I could just say fuck it, I’m gonna embrace it, but I can’t bring myself to do it, I am not that strong kinda IDGAF woman, as you can likely tell from this breakdown of a post.
I’m likely going to have to cut half my hair off now to get rid of the pink and purple balyage so that I can dye my hair brown all over to cover the greys. This is a sad realisation. Pray for me. I am going to lose my pretty 26inch long hair and pretty purple ends, all because of spindly grey hairs.
Also, I haven’t measured my hair, I just know it’s longer than my 26 inch extensions, I am not a total weirdo.