I want to talk about aging for a sec. I’m not afraid of being another year older when my birthday is looming, because life really does seem to get better each year. I wasn’t depressed to hit thirty, I actually LOVE my 30’s so far. They totally kick my 20’s ass. It’s not the age thing that bothers me.
It’s the side effects.
I want to age gracefully. Well, as gracefully as possible. I do believe in Botox. I mean, it’s preventative. And if you’ve never seen my scowl (which is totally a natural thing, even when I’m fairly happy) you would agree that my forehead wrinkles can be pretty intense. Thank God for my girlfriends who yell at me to STOP IT when they see it happening. They’re like free, and much less toxic, botox.
I want to accept the things that I can’t change, but holy shit, if I find one more grey hair I might lose it. I got my first one 4 months ago. It was a hard blow to my reality and I was actually really upset over it. I know you aren’t supposed to, but I ripped that thing out so fast. I needed a closer look. I needed to know if it was a new blonde baby hair, or if it was what I thought it was. It was what I feared most. It was basically two inches of white wire. Enter mild depression.
I know it’s an easy fix. I can color it. But what really irks me is the fact that I spent about 15 years highlighting my hair to keep it a few shades blonder than my natural very dirty blonde hair. About two and half years ago, my favorite colorist (Hey John Blue, talking to you ;)) started balayage on my hair. I wanted to get back to my roots, literally. I wanted less maintenance and I thought it might be fun to go semi-au naturale and rock the color I was intended to have. And you know what? I loved it. I love my natural color.
As it has grown out, I’ve only had to have a little touch up for a face framing highlight here and there, maybe every 3-4 months. It’s been awesome. So, what gives? Now that I’m finally happy being the low maintenance, easy breezy, natural me, I’m going to have to think about my next move. I can buy a little more time before I have to really start damage control, but isn’t that just my luck?
Maybe I wasn’t born to be a natural dirty blonde? Maybe I was born to be high maintenance???