I Have Found My Vain Streak. It's At My Hairline.

I have never understood a woman's need to hide their age. Everyone ages. Every year, every person in the world gets one year older. It's nothing we can do anything about, nor even change in any way. We can change the way we age, or hid the effects of aging, but we can't stop age from happening. If I was 27 last year, I'll be 28 this year. And this 29 and holding thing? I find that the height of stupidity. Quite frankly I'd rather someone know I was 36 rather than telling everyone that I'm 29 again, and looking like the 20's weren't kind to me.

Not that 36 is old by any stretch.

I'll be 43 very soon, and obviously could care less who knows that. I embrace the wisdom that comes with each year. I love looking forward to another year I have to spend with friends and family, and exploring more of God's awesome world around me. And perhaps because I've always looked far younger than  my years all my life, I even embrace signs of my age like age lines on my face and silver threads in my hair.

I know. I'm weird. I embrace that, too.

I noticed my first gray hair in 2012, at the age of 41. I really wasn't sure what it even was, so I plucked it to get a better look. (I am not embracing the impaired vision that has come with age as much as I am other things.)  When I realized I'd pulled my first gray, I kind of wanted to put it back. It took me a whole year to grow another one. I'm proudly letting that one there for the whole world to see. Except that it's not that noticeable.

I've had my hair dyed for the past 2 years now. No, it has nothing to do with that gray. Its more that I was finally ready to try something other than natural for the first time in my life. I went kind of reddish, and love it immensely. I've touched it up as needed, of course, because outgrown roots aren't pretty on anyone. And its about time to do those roots again, I've noticed.

And then I noticed something else while looking in the mirror today. Since I'm also working on growing out my bangs, this is the first time I've noticed. My hairline at my forehead is.... weirdly colored. I remember my natural color being dark. I was so blonde as a kid and it has gradually changed over the years to become a dark color. Not exactly brunette, but certainly darker than dirty blonde. It was rather nondescript, which is why I opted for a punch of color. But my hairline? It's not the nondescript brown that I remember. It looks very much like my hair is dusty. I kid you not. It's exactly like the shelves at the end of the week when they're in desperate need of dusting. You can see the color through it, but it's hazy and lightened in a weird, dirty kind of way.

Sexy, no?

My dad's side of the family doesn't gray until late in life. In fact, my dad has incredibly dark brown hair and has only started graying in the past 5 years or so. His mom took forever and EVER to gray. She lived with us when we were growing up on the farm, so I know this firsthand. I saw her daily. Her hair was the cutest little old lady hair ever, perfectly curled and cut in a very easy-going way. She rarely messed with it and it always stayed the same. And it wasn't gray, but more of a mousy, washed-out, weird, dull color.

Exactly like my hairline is growing in.

Today I learned that I have a smidgen of vanity in me. While I embrace aging, and the laugh lines around my eyes and mouth, and my gray hairs cropping up, I am not cool with the mousy dusty stuff my hair is turning into. I will be making an appointment for a color update and keeping that as a standing appointment. Gram rocked her hair, but she was 80.

Clearly this is a humbling reminder that I'll be 43 next week, after being mistaken as my daughter's friend last week.