The big reveal - and keep your expectations low

Attention young and fair-haired bloggers:   this post will likely bore you to death = be a major snooze.  But it is a cautionary tale that most, if not all, will relate to at some point while on this side of the filmy membrane that separates us from living now and the next realm.  So maybe skim through and file it for when your bodies start to remind you that you ain't the gals you once were...snicker snicker.

I doubt anyone will be shocked to learn that my big reveal is not that I have secretly lost the 50 pounds I've been trying to lose since Hannah was a pup and fooling you all with "woe is me" posts about overeating and such.   There will be no cream puff shots of me in slinky clothes and big hair, proudly displaying my willowy new body.  Maybe someday. 

When I mentioned yesterday that I was going to share something new, what I really meant was that I'm going to embrace more fully something old that isn't new...me.  Something I've been wanting to do for a couple of years - something I encounter every single month - actually every 3 weeks nowadays, and at age 58, you know I'm not talking about that special Aunt Flo who used to come around at about the same intervals.  I sent her packing about 5 years ago (or did she leave in a huff?).

To start, Martin Luther once said, "The hair is the richest ornament of women".  Not sure why such a noted religious pioneer was concerning himself with women's ornaments, but he was, afterall, a man.

Yeah, I'm talking hair.  As of now, chemicals used for the purpose of dying hair will no longer touch mine.  I'm done.  DONE.  FINIS. CAPUT.  I actually can't remember how long I've been dying my hair, but it's been at least 15 years.  Interesting to note that I started when I had just the first wisps of gray around my temples and the rest was its usual medium blonde.  But along the way, the gray advanced in its ruthless pursuit for dominion over my head, and quite frankly won the battle long ago.  The appointments with the colorist increased from every 6 weeks to 5, 4 and so on to where even the hoity toity Aveda product used now will only hide the gray for 2 and a half to 3 weeks; so I spend a couple weeks - every month - determining I'm not going to color it any more, only to succumb when things start looking pretty unkept and stripey. 

But this time I'm positive.  I'm ready.  I've done research, actually found a blog about going gray that's GREAT, and in preparation for writing this post even looked up some quotes about hair, and grayness!  It's happening, and with my short do, it shouldn't take too long before I can get a cut and be rid of the remnants of the dyed tresses.  So I thought I'd take a few pictures of where it is now, and then follow with progress shots every few weeks until I'm offically a gray lady.  Or white, or silver, or whatever.  I took the photos of my own head this morning with my iPhone, so they aren't that good, and as I'm wearing no make up and haven't tweezed the brows in decades, I decided to wait until this transition is in the can before doing a full frontal shot of face and hair in decent light.  You're just getting muted tones, and scalp shots for now.

So there you have it.  The graying of Leslie, begun many years ago, will soon be made not only manifest, but visible by all.  The worst thing that can happen is that I'll look awful, but I've never been a very vain person, thanks to certain self beliefs I've had for my whole life (thanks Mom), so I think it will be fine.  I actually think it's going to be more than fine, and I'm really excited about it - finally.  It feels like I'm upgrading my image and embracing fully exactly who I really am.  My affair with dying hair, and paying exorbitant fares for dyed hair, is over.  It's just me and Mother Nature from now on.  Hopefully she'll help me get some pounds off too.