It started with a single gray hair (which I obviously plucked.) Then… a few more. A few salon experiments later, I found myself facing a much bigger question than “highlights or lowlights?”

The First Grays

At one point, my hair started going gray, and I was in that early stage where you think you can still pluck them out. You know that phase—“If I just pull them, this won’t happen.” But it became obvious very quickly that wasn’t going to work. The gray was coming in fast and furious.

At the time, I was highlighting my hair every six months or so, adding blonde streaks into my brown hair. When the gray started showing, my colorist and I decided to blend it. Later we added lowlights. At one point, I looked in the mirror and thought, “Am I letting my hair go gray?” The answer was, “Ish, yeah. I’m going gray-ish.”

Not Just “Aging Gracefully”

A lot of women made similar decisions during COVID, when they couldn’t get to salons. For me, the choice wasn’t about embracing aging gracefully. It was simpler than that: I liked it. I liked the shine, the texture, even the volume it gave my hair.

This ties into a bigger conversation about aging. We’re often told we only have two choices: fight it or accept it. Deny aging and try to look younger, or accept it and resign yourself to being “less attractive.” But my experience has been different. I don’t feel like I’m just accepting aging—I actually see benefits in it.

What Aging Has Given Me

My body can’t do what it did at 20. I trained hard, played squash in college, pushed myself constantly. Now, when I train hard, I get exhausted. But instead of feeling like I’ve lost something, I see it as a gift. It forced me to stop mindlessly pushing and start noticing what my body really needs. It gave me discernment.

The same with energy. I can’t do everything for everyone anymore. And thank goodness. If I could, I might still be overextending myself. Aging forced me to set boundaries. It reminded me: I’m one human being, with one body.

Beauty, Redefined

I was always considered “pretty.” Pretty privilege is real, and that’s a whole other topic. But as I’ve gotten older, I’m no longer turning heads on the street. My daughters get that attention now. Youth is beautiful—it just is. But so is age, in a different way.

Losing that kind of attention has created space for me to expand other parts of myself, parts that are far more meaningful.

That’s why I see gray hair as a symbol. It’s not that I’ve accepted it despite being “less than.” I genuinely like it. And yes, I’ve adjusted. Black isn’t as flattering anymore, so I shifted my palette—more light colors, more soft grays. It feels fun, like an invitation to evolve my style.

I’ll admit it: I’m vain. I like clothes. I care about how I look. I like when I catch my reflection and think, “That shirt looks good on me.” Vanity doesn’t make you less substantial. Personal style—what you wear, how you do your hair—can be a pathway to confidence and comfort in your own skin.

What’s Next

Maybe next time, we’ll talk more about that—how personal style can be a tool, not just an aesthetic choice. For now, I’ll leave you with this: aging hasn’t taken something from me. It’s given me something else—something better.

Thank you, as always, for listening. All my love.

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