Give in to the grey

Recently I've decided that I'm going to try and be one of those people who go grey gracefully (say that three times fast). This is due mostly to the fact that every time I comb my hair I see more of those little grey hairs sticking up in the air, taunting me with their very presence, daring me to pluck them. Perhaps the stress from the last month or two has finally caught up with me...but I'll take grey hair over anxiety attacks any day!   I don't really mind it so much aside from their shortness at the moment and so far the greys seem to be blending in with my normal hair, as opposed to my poor mom, who's grey hair has decided to come in coarse and kinky, giving her no end of trouble. I was born with a shock of grey hair actually and, aside from it getting me called a genetic freak by my eighth-grade biology teacher in front of the entire class, it hasn't bothered me any (though my mom was accused by a hairdresser of testing dye on my hair when I was a little kid). I actually thought I'd be totally grey by now anyway, especially since my grandmother, uncle, and aunt were all completely grey by the time they turned twenty-five, so in a weird way I'm kind of happy to see these hairs multiplying while I sleep, totally unaware; its another way of feeling connected to my family. This is probably a weird way of thinking about it, but it works for me.  Awesome grey hair shouldn't just be for men.  Its time we ladies stop plucking, dying, and rinsing the grey away and embrace the sexy, like this:


Aw yeah.