Tuesday, June 24, 2008

heyday to greyday

June 24th, 2008. A day that will live in infamy. The at-home work in the morning and the eternal 25 minute ride to the call-centre. A day beginning like any other; better in fact, for several reasons. When in the washroom just before my shift started: the sudden flash, the loss of equilibrium: one hair, a silver filigree, daring me to toss it back with the others.

I looked back on my life in that mirror this morning and thought of all the disappointments and regrets I've collected since my first few memories. This is not unusual for me, particularly before work, and since my birthday is roughly three months away, that dreadful inevitability has been bearing down on me for some time.

I thought of the stress that could have caused it, but this year is nothing to two-thousands four and six, each of which landed me in the care of disturbed and wonderful medical practitioners. I irrationally thought it was someone else's until I pulled it out and felt the poing from my own scalp.

I love my hair. It's one of the few features I have that I have never questioned, second-guessed or had any problem with. It saw me through every change the rest of my body, face and general appearance. I could always end a disparaging comment with, 'but I have great hair' and feel better. Am I about to lose my appearance's most powerful ally?

I thought of my boyfriend, the man who had unexpectedly changed my life for the better. Who was always sympathetic, happy for me and proud of everything I endeavoured. Who calmed me when I raged and took me seriously in the craziest of frenzies.

"This is all your fault!" I rationally yelled in my head. "All of your beatific peacefulness, your neverending encouragement and unwavering loyalty and insistence on making me laugh even in the face of disappointment and total failure has caused me nothing but stress and anxious incomprehension!" And now my hair is grey.

It's so unfair. More unfair than my friend Dan who started losing his hair at seventeen? Of course! He's had 13 years to make peace with it, and he's a director. Shaving his head and getting square glasses only gives him street cred. My friend Dave might sympathize, but he's been graying and losing his hair since he was a lad of fifteen years. He's a veteran grey grower and probably doesn't even remember what it was like to have soft, luxurious, chocolaty curls that lift and sway on windy afternoons. Asshole.

My hair is going grey. This September will mark three decades of pain, failure and disgust by me, with me and around me.

At least I have a good hairdresser.

4 comments:

Ryshpan said...

I've been going grey since I was 7. SEVEN! My dad was completely salt-and-pepper by the time he finished college. On top of that, after living in Qu├ębec, my hair seems to want to separate from my skull.

You can colour it if you want, but think of all the beautiful women who are proudly grey: Emmylou Harris, Bonnie Raitt, Marcia Ball.

Freshwater Mermaid said...

I don't colour my hair anymore, it's too much work. Finally my sloth has overcome my vanity.

Ben the Rational said...

Don't worry so much.

everything is wonderful

DP said...

Welcome to your 30's! You have so much more to look forward to, and who cares? It's only hair.
:-)