I spotted the first gray hairs on my head when I was still in high school. They refused to go unnoticed, standing out in texture as well as color.
For a while, it was easy to keep them hidden. They were vastly outnumbered among the dark brown hairs I’d always known as mine. But that would not last long. Each year I noticed more, as if they were clearly multiplying, choking out the brown, for a majority takeover. Even back then I had more gray than my mom and my five sisters.
My journey to total gray acceptance has been a decades-long process, made more difficult over the past three years by the fact that I can't clearly see my image in the mirror to determine if total gray is a good look on me. That’s one of the key determining factors, gone.
I considered the big chop--cutting off all the color--which, at the time, would have left me with about three inches. Instead, I decided to let it grow out a few more inches, but somewhat under cover. I gave myself the pep talk, ‘Come on girl, you got this!’ and a timeline with no extensions. Well, no time extensions.
My original timeline had been set a little over ten years ago, back in 2013, when I renewed my passport. I knew I didn’t want to continue coloring my hair for another 20 years. I’d soon have to go with my natural color before the next photo in 2024 to avoid TSA agents questioning if the photo looked like me.
My deadline is no longer in the distant future. The year to renew is here and I am not totally ready.
I decided to be vulnerable enough to share my concern with some family and friends. Several of them, including my daughter and granddaughter, told me that gray is “in” and that some young folks are now choosing to color their hair gray. Hopefully, this change will make their journey to gray easier. Like them, there was a period of time when I let my gray bling, and it didn’t age me. Yet as I approached 50, my reflection posed more of a question of whether or not the gray was premature or if it was a result of my advancing years. I have heard that gray hair is a sign of wisdom, something that I have prayed for since my early years as a result of seeing it in my elders. But I have witnessed age without wisdom and wisdom without age, so I know that it's not always a package deal.
Graying with Grace
There comes a point when it’s obvious that the gray is being covered. Setting a timeline in advance, over ten years ago, was meant to help me avoid that struggle. I wanted to find the balance, to choose my own transition point since nature seemed to be ignoring the norm. I think it would’ve helped if my gray hair were shareable. My husband is older than I am and has very little gray and here I am with an overabundance.
My sister Yvette referred me to Ms. Khady who has a shop of three women whose African accent reminded me of my trips to the continent and the sense of connection I felt there. I wore the beautiful braids with extensions for almost two years with an occasional wig in between braidings. It gave me time to adapt and to align my thinking. Although it took over two years to grow out of most of the color, I still wasn’t completely ready for the stark contrast that I could see in the mirror of all white or silver surrounding my face. I realized that taking the next step to loose, natural, and gray would require help. Like everything, hair takes a village, too.
I contacted a beloved Detroit natural hair salon, Textures by Nefertiti. I told the owner that I was growing out my natural color which is about 90% gray. I explained that I could not see what it looked like clearly because of my sight. She asked if I had ever had my natural hair professionally done. I realized I had not; I had always done it myself. She recommended a professional who could give me a better idea of what it would look and feel like to wear it loose, natural, and gray. The best way that I can describe how I felt after talking to the stylist, Carol, is that a burden was suddenly lifted. I felt safe and in great hands. Almost ready to let nature lead.
Nature’s Way
I recall a photo of my paternal grandmother, who passed away at age 60. In the photo, she’s totally gray and holding the hand of my then five-year-old auntie, which means she was probably only in her late 30s or early 40s. But she was beautiful, and hair coloring was not an option for most of us back then, and likely not even a concern.
I wonder if this transition is a challenge for most. How many women have the undoing to do, the detaching from societal norms filled with considerations focused on shallow areas, on money and not people? I have friends, family, and coworkers who have accepted their gray with ease, some earlier than normal (if there is a normal). I also know women who are well into the second half of life sans the gray and looking beautiful.
Despite currently seeing my hair only softly, I know I’m growing in my acceptance. Each life stage has both its beauty and struggles, I guess. In my teens, when I was under 120 pounds, I recall thinking I needed to lose weight. I learned to accept my body and not aspire to that of others.
Back in my majority-white high school, I wore my hair natural as a declaration of Black beauty and Black Power. But somehow, I missed the beauty that comes with just being on the planet longer. I could see beauty radiating when I looked at photos of my ancestors, but not in myself.
Now, decades later, beauty is what I’m reminded of again and again. When I go out in public with my gray in full view, strangers are quick to compliment me. They are a part of my village, that community that helps along the journey. My family is, as well. At a recent family gathering, my nephew London looked at me and declared, ‘You all Wakanda over there, auntie!’ I smiled at the reference to Angela Bassett’s portrayal of an all-gray Queen Ramonda in the movie Black Panther. There are others like my nephew. There was the lady at the voting machine and the lady who stopped at my table at a local restaurant to tell me that my hair was beautiful, and my coworkers, who never miss an opportunity to encourage what they see.
And on and on my learning grows. I’m happily anticipating seeing what my village sees. In the meantime, I see just enough to make me smile and imagine how sweet it will be to join in on their full embrace of a gloriously gray me.
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