I had just recently found my first gray hair when more were found at a hair appointment at Bondi Blonde (bless you, ladies). When I say more, I mean a whole crop sprouted up overnight. As each foil was placed, I all but shouted for her to cover them up, slather on the blonde to hide my dreadful decline into a matronly future. Now, those of you that embrace your gray hair: Don’t be offended. This is a personal thing with me; that and the fact that I haven’t reached 30 yet are big factors in my fear of gray hair.
See, I don’t feel like I should be old enough to start developing gray hair. I’m not even 30, as stated above. I am in my late 20s (OK, last birthday in this age bracket is looming) and still feel like I’m 16 inside at times. It’s not even the getting older part that is intimidating; it’s the fact that time passes so quickly. I swear I was just getting my driver’s license and now I’m married with two babies and a mini-van living happily in suburbia (with gray hair). What happened?
First off, I love my life. I have always wanted to be a wife and a mother and that dream has been fulfilled. I spend my days at work, not exactly doing what I dreamt of, but a good job, nonetheless, come home to my happy little family and I love it. However, when I look in the mirror, sometimes I wonder, “Who is this person?” This person with the extra pounds, the graying hair and the old and tired clothes. Where did I go?
I’m not having a tremendous amount of anxiety over this; I’m trying to do something about the problem. I’m slowly dropping weight thanks to Weight Watchers and walking more when the weather is cooler. I seriously need to do something with my hair and instead of buying the kids 5 million outfits that they never get around to wearing, I really need to get some new clothes. So, projects in hand I will start on my way to at least looking like that girl I used to know.
I think that what is happening to me happens to every woman, especially after getting married and having children. We just dive right into becoming Mommy. Gone is the girl who used to be spontaneous, outrageous and creative. I don’t miss my life before I became a mother; I revel in the memories of those days, but wouldn’t want them back for anything. I need to just slow down and start applying those parts of my life to the one I have now. I do try and be spontaneous with the children, but as all mothers of young children know, schedule is everything! I need to let it go sometimes. Creativity abounds when the little man and I start on our craft projects, and I so enjoy those times with him. Being able to write this column helps get some of that pent up energy out of me and I am forever grateful for this.
What I’m trying to say is very hard to put into words. I am no longer the girl I once was, and I shouldn’t be; I have responsibilities now and some things I did horrify the older me! Again, I just think that we women sometimes shed our skin too quickly to put on the new face of Mommy, when our children benefit from all parts that make up who we are, not just the ones that we deem acceptable.