40 days to 40, day 13

     So I'm in my bathroom tonight, touching my roots, Ms. Clairol style trying to think of what I should write about today.   And my idea became apparent as I was concealing it before my eyes, my gray hair.  So that's what I'll talk about.
     I have had gray hair since I was six years old.   I remember this because I took the plucked strand to school for show and tell.  Now that I recall, that morning while I was getting ready for school,  was not that much different from my bathroom epiphany tonight, except my mom was combing my hair and I was whining about wanting to bring something for show and tell.  I  couldn't think of what to bring that day, then PLUCK!  'Here ya go, bring that to show and tell.' my mom handed to me.    At the time, I was more amazed and felt special.  It was really a novelty, but not enough to get on Ripley's Believe or Not.    Darn, I loved that show.   As the years passed, it would become my curse.   'Don't pluck it! or you'd grow 10 more' my babysitter would say.  Ok, I won't, but they kept coming. Hmm. Shucks, I guess it was a tale. But grey hair, at the age of 6?   Seriously God?  That goes on my bone to pick list when I get to heaven.     My uncle would try to comfort me by telling me that gray hair is actually a blessing and symbol of wisdom in the bible.   That was a nice thought and all,  but it didn't bring much comfort to an eight year old who kept getting teased and harassed by her fellow classmates. God bless him for trying.
       I still wanted answers!   I couldn't wait to get to heaven so my inquisitive ten year old mind naturally turned to science.   I remember asking Mr.Peterson, my 4th grade science teacher in front of the whole class. I think it was random question day or something, not sure how the topic came up, but I asked him, 'so why do I have gray hair?'He looked at me, kind of smirked, then knew I was serious, so put on a straight face and said, 'it's genetics' while shrugging his shoulders.  Genetics? Is that some joke, because my name is Janette?  I knew he wasn't joking, but I didn't believe or understand him either. Thought he was full of it and just gave some answer to get out of an uncomfortable situation. It wouldn't be until years later when I was sitting in my biochemistry class in college that I learned Mr. Peterson was right.   Its actually the codes in our DNA that determines at what point the genes in our cells will be cut off and start to age.  For some reason, I had the code to shorten the age of my hair pigmentation, something to do with telomeres.  Ok, I won't get all big bang theory on you.  NERD ALERT!  I don't even watch that show.  Anyway, my fourth grade science teacher was right.  He just lacked the capability of explaining it, not only on the spot but in a way that a frustrated, jilted picked on fourth grader would understand.  Who could blame him? Ok I'll give him that.   
     So life goes on, and so did my gray hair.  I begged and begged my mom to let me dye it.  While other girls in my class were wearing make up, getting perms, and doing other cool things  I wasn't allowed to do, I was prematurely aging away. I didn't care about that other stuff.  Well maybe I did, but what I really I wanted to do was cover up those wiry silver strands that would call attention to my hair and my vulnerable soul.  Finally, when I turned 13, she let me.  Hallelujah!   And I'd been coloring ever since, happily, proudly, sometimes drudgingly and very costly.    
    Now I understand there has been a certain movement on social media for women to be themselves and move away from social stereotypes.   Ladies standing in the street in their underwear, selfies with no make up in order to make a statement.  I applaud their self confidence.  There are also a few of my friends my age who have decided to stop dying their premature greys and go all naturale and they look great.  They can really get away with it. More power to them! I'll be the first to admit, its not for me.   I'd like to think I don't place a lot of importance on outward beauty.    I still work on my inner beauty,  but I'll dye my hair anyway!  (ooh that sounds like a good title for midlife crisis self help book, note to self).  I've been dying my hair for so long, I won't stop anytime soon.  Although, I'd like to think that after all those years of being picked on, I've finally become secure in who I am as a person, as a child of God and not by my physical appearance. 
I've actually grown more comfortable in letting my hair go a little longer between jobs, not just for financial reasons (and that's a good reason), but I'm growing more comfortable with it as it starting to match my age.  I mean, when does premature grays stop becoming PRE mature anyway?  And no matter what, dyed or not   it reminds me of my experiences as that vulnerable little girl who grew up to be a more confident woman. It is those experiences that make me who I am and reveal the true splendor of me.   


Every silver lining's got a touch of grey.  --Grateful Dead