Everyday Goddess

My Gray Hair - One Year, Dye Free.

Today is the one year anniversary of the last time I had my hair colored.

When I started, I didn't give much thought to the fact that hair grows about 6 inches a year - And what that means if I don't want to get a short haircut. In fact, what I probably should have done to celebrate the one year mark is go get all the remaining dyed hair cut off, no matter how shorn and miserable that left me.

Instead, I got a good trim on Saturday and had a breakdown about my half-and-half hair because it is DRIVING ME MAD. Here's a better shot of what I'm dealing with:

I'm seriously miserable about it. I'm self-conscious enough about the gray without having to deal with the visual weight of the dyed hair hanging, hanging on the bottom.

But the length of it is still shorter than I like - and destined to get shorter. I mean, there's going to be a day when I've just got to do it. I'm trying to hang in there to minimize the trauma of it. Right now I'm thinking end of summer. It's got to get past my ears, I'd say.

I'm playing this game where it grows an inch longer and I cut the bottom an inch shorter. Someday the cut will be at the end of the natural hair, and my personal hair hell will end and the lengthening can begin again. Still, on that day, it will be shorter than it is in these pics.

Unless, I'm thinking maybe once all the pieces framing my face are natural, I won't care so much about the bottom inches, and I'll be able to leave it a little longer.

Meanwhile, I went to a poker tournament on Friday night with mostly people I was meeting for the first time and felt totally self-conscious about it. A young guy gave me a strange look early on in the evening, and I was uncomfortable about my hair from that point on, although most everyone was friendly and I did OK for my second tournament ever. (I came in 7th out of like 35 peeps, but I played almost too tight, I think.)

Back to my hair (so much less interesting than poker), I do really worry that even when it's fully grown out, the gray makes me unattractive.

*I* like it - But I'm terrified about how it effects people's perception of me.

I do feel confident that I will feel a lot better about it on the day that the last bit of dyed hair is cut off. Months and months and months from now.

Sob.

I wish this post was more triumphant, but I'm honestly having a really hard time with it right now.

"Going Gray" by Anne Kreamer

I decided that my review of Going Gray: What I Learned about Beauty, Sex, Work,  Motherhood, Authenticity, and Everything Else That Really Matters was the perfect time to try my first video blog. Thereby trying out my new Flip Video Ultra Camcorder, crashing around in iMovie, and doing an update on my own gray hair. (NOTE: I had to get Quicktime Pro to get my video from the Flip Video to iMovie.)

Hope you enjoy!

Please note that I received the book discussed above for free from the publisher for my honest review, and I won't be sending it back. Also, just a reminder, if you click any of my Amazon links and then make a purchase, I get a percentage of the sale, and you make my day.

Gray Hair Update: Week 37, The Bangs Grow In

I figure I'm overdue for an update on my gray hair adventure.

It's been 37 weeks since I last dyed it.  I really should take pictures in natural light, but it never seems to happen, so I finally just shot some in the bathroom.  Which is making the dyed hair look red - I don't think it's that red.

It is, however, dark and of a totally different quality than the undamaged hair that's growing in. It's driving me crazy and unhappy. The only thing that would make me more unhappy is short hair, so here I am, Ms. Two-Tone, Ms. Half-Healthy/Half-Fried.

I keep thinking about how you spend $$$ to get your hair dyed, and then you spend $$$$$ on products to tame your damaged hair.  I am really looking forward to the day (still far away) when all the hair on my head is natural. This is also why I haven't used a temporary color wash for consistency.  I just don't want anything like that touching the hair that's growing in.

I just got it cut, and I was relieved that my bangs are basically fully grown out.  They'd gotten long, as I was overdue for a haircut, and the two-toned, too-long bangs were horrid. But... now I'm fixated on my long (dark) layers on the sides. Sigh. In a few months, I can hopefully go get another cut, and I'll ask for short layers framing my face, and maybe I'll be almost there on the sides.

My hair dresser asked me if anyone's said anything, but you know, I think I'm just the kinda person people don't say anything to.  I've seen people look at it, but there hasn't been a comment in a long time.  I mean, at this point it's probably apparent it's on purpose.  Actually, I guess a couple people have asked me if I'm doing something different, and then I say I'm growing out my natural hair. Sometimes I call the gray "nature's highlights." It really is; my hair looks much lighter.

I have this theory that now that it's passed the top of my head, it will appear to grow out faster because it's all straight down from here. (Wishful thinking?)  On the other hand, it's winter, so it's hardly growing at all right now. And the healthy hair pulls up, I think, so sometimes it's like I'm not even making progress.  I mean, look at my current blog picture up there on the left - doesn't it look like my hair is in exactly the same place?  And yet that was months ago.  Erg.

So, I'm frustrated with how it looks over-all right now, and I'm impatient, but I'm definitely sure I'm growing it out for good. I'm sure as heck not going through this again!

You can really tell the difference in the health of the hair, right?  It's been raining in L.A., and I swear I'm going to lather it with something tomorrow, I'm so over the frizz.

Pick yourself up and dust yourself off, sure, but just how fast do you get back in the saddle?

This post is cross-posted on BlogHer.

Sunday night I came home, and I was single. And I thought that I would pull back and take my time, the way I have in the past. I even told him I would probably take a beat to change my MySpace and that I'd probably write a few non-specific BlogHer posts before mentioning my new status. Give myself some time in limbo, at least virtually speaking.

I told him that it wasn't like high school, when I would bounce out of relationships, eager to get into another and try someone new.

And then I woke up Monday morning and washed that man right outta my MySpace. Well, OK, we're adults (right as I'm talking about MySpace, I love that). I genuinely like and respect him, and we work in the same industry. I changed my status and moved him out of my top eight.

Sunday night, I was thinking about taking time to myself through the end of the year. Hermit up for yet another unromantic Christmas in L.A. *Hate* that.

But goddammit, I just want to go out and have some fun. I want to meet someone. I'm still totally ready to meet someone.

In fact, I feel exactly where I was six-ish months ago.

Now don't get me wrong; I am really hurting right now. Breakups hurt. The hopes and dreams I'd built around him, they were smashed into little heart pieces. As much as I hate it, I do need to take some time.

But I'm also still who I was before, and the hopes and dreams are still the same. I was all in that sandbox; he's the one who didn't want to play.

I want to play.

So I find myself thinking maybe I should just jump right back in. I mean, people do do that, right?

And if that's true, am I talking like, hop-right-back-on-eHarmony jump right in? Is that nuts?

If I went on a date and the guy told me he ended a six-ish month relationship within the past month, but he was fine and ready to be dating again, I wouldn't believe him and I would run for the hills. In fact, I think I've actually done that. But do I have to wait just so I'm not that guy?

I mean so long as I'm being honest, and I'm not crying over my martini about my ex, right? Honestly, I remember my last true rebound relationship, and it was years ago at this point.

I just want to move on from those broken dream pieces and find some new castles for my sky.

But here's a stupid thing: I'm worried about my hair. Yes, my hair.

I'm growing out my gray, and while I honestly think that merely having gray hair probably thins any pool of guys in L.A. who would be interested in me by at least 50% - and that's me being positive - growing it out is a choice I've made and I'm sticking to it. It's the half and half phase that I'm truly miserable about. I don't know if I'm fixating on my recent picture that's great except for my half and half hair, or if it looks that bad in person, too. I mean, I look in the mirror, and I can't tell just how bad it is. And you can't actually get anyone to answer questions like that honestly.

And there's no solution but patience. Or a super short hair cut. Which I would hate. I hate having short hair, and I hate this half and half.

OMG, it's growing SO SLOW. Not to mention, the healthier it gets, the more it bounces up, making it look like there's been no progress in months. But it's not like I can wait a year for my hair to grow out.

And I'm not keen on waiting for my heart to fully heal either. Fuck it. Fuck my foolish, romantic heart. It's still pumping; let it pump for someone else.

I don't know, what do you say? When do I dive right back into the dating pool, two-toned hair and all?

~

Related Reading:

Five Years of Dating in Los Angeles (and Counting) - I am not alone.

That Touch of Gray (it kinda suits you anyway) - A great BlogHer post from Grace Davis, in case you missed it.

Dating Again (again) - I don't blog dates, but I love reading about other people's.

“Men seldom make passes at women who wear glasses” - Single and feminist.

Growing Out the Gray Hair - 17 week update

Grace Davis recently posted a great post (with a really interesting comment thread) about women and gray hair over at BlogHer:  That Touch of Gray (it Kinda Suits You Anyway).  So I thought it was a good time for some new pics.  It's been like 17 weeks since it was dyed last.  I'm purposely taking pictures of where my shock of gray hair grows in, obviously.

Those gray hairs are squirrelly!  Next time I get my hair cut, I'm going to get a conditioning treatment and see if that smooths them out a bit - plus once they get longer (and my hair falls out less because I'm not dying it, which is already happening), that will help.

This next one is from when my hair's wet, and I comb it all forward to blow it dry.

Yes, it's definitely a different color, and it's definitely noticeable at this point.  Which is really scary, I'm not going to lie.  My biggest worries are that it makes me look older than I am and that it effects how people perceive and treat me.  I also worry about being judged for being ungroomed, like I don't know how to take care of myself.  To date, I haven't received any comments on it, but I do perceive that it's been noticed.

I've been thinking a lot about how I feel about my gray hair outside of societal considerations.  Which is that it doesn't bother me at all.  In fact, it's always rather fascinated me, and I actually rather like it.  It's shiny, and I always think of it as "nature's natural highlights."

Further, I think a lot about my competition in the entertainment industry.  Much of my competition is younger guys who have more money and more time and more connections than I have ever had.  Plus, they don't nor ever will feel drawn to spend the time and money on their hair that I often feel like I am expected to - in the sense that I am judged when I don't, or at least, constantly judged and summed up by how I look.  In other words, not only am I behind them on a base level, but then I am drawn into a cycle that wastes what time and money I do have.  It's all very catch-22, and I definitely consider it a trap: That women are drawn into a cycle where they add to their base disadvantages by spending time and money on appearance - and at the same time are judged harshly if they don't.

In this case, knowledge doesn't exactly set you free, because somehow you still have to navigate the realities while you try to succeed.

My moment of truth, however - at least this month - came because I had a dental filling fall out.  Which meant I had to go to the dentist.  Which meant that the topic of my cavities and need for deep cleaning were going to rear their head again.  Which is a financial issue for me.

Except somewhere in the financial freak out I realized that the first immediate dental bill I was freaking out about (two fillings and 1/4 of the deep cleaning) was almost the same amount I paid last time I went to the salon for a cut/color/blow dry.  And I realized that my fears of societal judgment meant that I chose to spend money on my hair instead of my teeth.  Which is pretty absurd bullshit, to be frank.

I'm still struggling with my decision to grow out my gray.  I remain vigilant for negative repercussions.  But I'm definitely not dying it again until after my cavities are filled and my deep cleaning is completed.  That, at least, seems like common sense.

~

Related reading:

Over at Dove click Watch the Film for a fun look at the absurdity, if that's possible.

The personal is political, and hair issues are even more of an issue for women of color.  Mamas, Don't Let Your Daughters Grow Up To Hate Kinky is a powerful post about what utter bullshit it is to expect black women to straighten their hair (time, money, and pain) to look "professional" and "clean."

And from there, I'd like to jump to the topic of racism and ask you to please read this post:  "Do you understand where you are?"  A look at our continuing realities in America and a great read.

My Gray Hair

My first gray hairs appeared when I was in undergrad in my early 20s.  I used to pluck them out, but stopped because of the old wives tale that plucking gray hairs makes them come back tenfold.  Silly, I know.

People in my life pointed them out, made jokes, laughed.  I was supposed to laugh along, I guess.  I was also being taught that gray hair means you're old, and old is bad.  Old is something you tease people with.

When I called off my wedding at age 26, I lost all my gray hairs completely for about six months.  Physical manifestation of my extreme relief, perhaps.

Before I went to film school, I didn't have much gray hair at all, and I got my hair done regularly anyway.  It was in film school, as the money ran out and I turned 30, that my gray hair saga truly began.

For a while, I dyed it with boxes from Target.  A couple times I paid to get it done even though I couldn't afford it.  And then at one point, sick of bad dye jobs or paying a lot of money, I decided to grow it out.  In this picture, my hair is completely natural:

What you can't quite tell from the picture is that I have a shock of gray hair on my right side.  You also can't tell that once I stopped dying it, my hair stopped falling out.

Because I have thin hair.  When I dye it - myself or at the salon - it falls out and falls out and falls out.

So, there I was with a healthy head of hair, bits of which were noticeably gray.  The other thing that happened was that it grew in a cool dark brown, which I liked, but then it lightened up.  I also felt like it was dull, although gray hair is shiny, so perhaps that wasn't actually true.  I probably could have tried a conditioning treatment.

As it was growing in, I found myself fascinated by it.  No woman under like 60 and in the entertainment industry has gray hair in Los Angeles.  One of my inspirations for growing it out was one woman I knew who had natural hair in her 50s.  I was fascinated by seeing her boldly gray hair.  I was fascinated by how my gray hair grew in.

I very much felt like I was doing something truly alternative and bold.  I thought about so many of the tattooed and pierced people in L.A. who all look the same, think the same, and basically are as judgmental and holier than thou as a circle of ultra-conservatives, and I thought, I'm doing something more truly subversive than some of those posers will do in the next ten years.  30-something woman in the entertainment industry in Los Angeles unabashedly sporting her natural hair, complete with grays!

But really, I think it was more like this article from The Onion:  Why Can't Anyone Tell I'm Wearing This Business Suit Ironically?

Because I ultimately decided that having gray hair in Los Angeles aged me at least ten years in the eyes of the average Angeleno.  I felt that it was affecting how people related to me and regarded me - if they even saw me vs. their eyes passing over me like I was invisible.

Even now I wonder, if I had left my gray hair, would I have the job I have today?  Would my boyfriend have called me after the first date?  Age, looks, and perception matter in this town.  And while I've got no problem being judged at 50 for being 50, I do have a problem being judged to be ten years older than I actually am.  I do have a problem if people blow me off, or can't see the me the way I see myself.

I felt like people looked away like I didn't know how to take care of myself.  Like I should be embarrassed that I needed to get my hair done.

But here I am today, and my hair is falling out.  First I did boxes from Target again, which is messy and never comes out good, and then I decided that I simply had to suck it up, pay the bucks, and go to the salon.  My roots show at six weeks, so that's like every other month.

Man, is that money I simply don't want to spend.  It's certainly money that my male competition isn't spending.  I hate that.

But it's been seven weeks, and there it is in the mirror.  My gray hair.

And all over the floor and in my drains and on my counters and just everywhere.

In my mind I go back and forth about it.  I'm thinking about growing it out again.  Going natural.  Going gray.

Which means going through having grown-out roots again.  Waiting to cut off the dyed hair inch by inch, month after month.  If there is something that looks worse than gray hair, it's gray roots.

But it's summer, and my hair grows insanely fast in the summer.  So if I'm going to do it again, now's the time.

It won't be as dark as I like it.  It will have gray.  It won't be as attractive.  I will look older than I am again.

But perhaps if I document it and write about it, I will feel empowered by it again.  Empowered by the boldness of natural hair in the big city.  Empowered by the money I'm not spending on something I wish I didn't have to do anyway.

Or who knows, maybe I'll change my mind and dye it again.

But for now:  Here's where I stand at 7 weeks:

And the scary one: