I just found my first gray hair this morning.  I know, I’m incredibly lucky that it’s taken this long.  I’m sure there are others in there somewhere, but they’re tricky to distinguish from the blond ones, so it’s possible that I have a ton of them (maybe my “blond” hair has just been progressively becoming grayer over the years, and I’ve never noticed).  I doubt it, though.  My dad is still really blond, so I suspect it’s just good genes and I’m just exceptionally fortunate.

I’m not traumatized at all.  I actually like it.  Not only is it pretty and kind of sparkly, but I really have no issues about getting (and looking) older.  (Maybe it’s because I’ve always looked relatively young?)  I think I would be bothered if I looked older than I am — for any reason, hair color or otherwise — but as it is, I don’t mind my gray hair.  In fact, I  have this image of myself, one day in the future, much older, with a long gray braid — and I’ve got to start somewhere.  (I hope that works out for me, eventually.)  I tried to point it out to Benjamin this evening.  He was unimpressed.

I’m a mom.  I’m 35.  Life is good.  I don’t mind looking like all of those things are true.

I’ve been thinking about getting my hair highlighted for years, but I’ve just never gotten around to it.  My hairdressers and my more fashion conscious friends have assured me that it would be flattering and make me look more youthful.  Maybe I’ll get around to it one of these days, but I’m certainly not going to do it now — it might cover up my gray hair!