“Our society has perpetuated the belief that if a woman ages naturally, she’ll look old, and that old is the opposite of beautiful.”

Last spring I accidentally started going grey.

I kept meaning to dye my roots, but for the first time since I was 25, (when my first grey hairs appeared) I put off the chore longer than usual. I told myself that it was summer and my hair was usually in some version of a messy bun anyway. That I’d refresh my roots at the end of summer. Eventually enough of my roots were showing (a stark contrast to my dark brown hair) that my hair looked a bit ridiculous. My kids even noticed and were aghast at the amount of visible grey. They had never commented on it before, but were now grimacing at the sight, and sharing, with stark frankness, how they felt about having a mom in their early forties going grey.

I explained to them that I’d been going grey for years, but had just been dyeing my roots to match my hair. Ever since I was a child, I’d been a brunette with shoulder length, curly, brown hair. As a child, I remember the aesthetic contrast between my grandmother and her sisters, primarily because she coloured her hair and they didn’t. I thought she looked young and fashionable and vowed then that one day I too would keep the grey at bay. Besides, I loved being a brunette and intended to maintain that aspect of my identity through old age.

But then last summer, I realized that my daughters had virtually no examples of what going grey in your forties could look like. I considered the fact that 100 years ago they would have been surrounded by plenty of women my age whose hair was transitioning to shades of grey or white, but that our modern society does not celebrate the process of natural aging for women. Instead it promotes a mentality of anti-aging and equates beauty with youth.

Unwilling to let my children go without an example of what it looks like for a woman in her 40’s to age naturally, I decided to give greying a whirl. I could always go back to my brunette beginnings, but I committed to seeing what would happen if I officially stopped covering my silver strands for just one year. Besides, I told myself, I had eliminated virtually every other toxic chemical from my beauty routine, it was probably time to let go of this last one.

I was not prepared for the first round of results.

The beginning was rough. The grey roots spread quickly, leaving a massive swath of silver down the middle of my head for so long that I had to wear my hair up for months, lest I look like a skunk! This was truly the most difficult part of going grey. I hated how my hair looked and missed wearing my hair down whenever I wanted. It also seemed like for the first time ever, my kids were embarrassed by my appearance. The whole exercise felt downright miserable for the first six months.

And then something shifted.

I started losing less hair when brushing through my tangles in the shower. My curls became less frizzy and more defined. My roots were becoming thicker and my hair fuller. Even the greys were softer and less coarse than before. The absence of harsh chemicals was leaving my hair in a healthier state than it had been in years, and I felt optimistic about these distinct changes. Even my hair dresser noticed the difference in my hair health.

One change that still remains a mystery to me is that, while I’d been dyeing only my roots for years, the rest of my hair seemed to fade to a lighter shade of brown. I now possess a mix of grey and light brown locks. Never having had natural highlights before, this blend offers depth and interest to my hair I’m beginning to enjoy.

At about 9 months into the experiment, another new aspect of going grey came on the scene. People began complimenting my grey hair, some women even divulging their own tentative urge to stop colouring their hair just to see what might happen if they gave their brains, bodies, and bank accounts a break from the high maintenance that constant colouring requires. I’ve been told on multiple occasions, that their hesitancy lies in the fear of looking old.

Our society has perpetuated the belief that if a woman ages naturally, she’ll look old, and that old is the opposite of beautiful. If anything has inspired me to dig my heels in and not give up on this experiment, it’s been my desire to see a shift in this mentality. If not for my generation, then perhaps for my kids’. The only way it’s going to become just as acceptable for women to go grey as it is for men is if more women begin challenging the status quo.

I will admit that I’ve had to adjust my own way of thinking whenever I look in the mirror. First of all, I’m just not used to NOT being a dark brown brunette. It’s going to feel foreign to have to write ‘grey’ in forms that require me to provide my hair colour. There is a sense of loss that I’ve experienced in going grey, a recognition that I am no longer ‘young’ and that middle age is fast approaching. And yet the visual I see in the mirror is actually helping me accept this fact, rather than fight against it. I’m spending more time on my gut health and physical strength that my outward appearance these days. These efforts will eventually impact how I look on the outside, but more importantly, give me a better shot at longevity and quality of life.

Now that I’ve arrived at the one year anniversary of my deciding to intentionally go grey, I’m feeling more confident in my own skin (and hair) than I have in years. My husband loves my new look and my kids have all come to me individually over the past little while to tell me they actually like my hair and think it looks pretty. One of my friends has been inspired to take the plunge and try the experiment herself. That’s the great thing about deciding to go grey: if you don’t like it, you can always change it. There’s no permanence in the decision if you don’t want there to be. But you just might experience some freedom in the process of letting yourself go grey.

If you’re considering the idea or are in the process, I’d love to hear from you! Natural aging doesn’t have to equate to looking old, ugly, or like we’ve let ourselves go. Instead we can celebrate the blessing it is to age and the natural beauty that accompanies each year we have been gifted.

“I realized that my daughters had virtually no examples of what going grey in your forties could look like. I considered the fact that 100 years ago they would have been surrounded by plenty of women my age whose hair was transitioning to shades of grey or white, but that our modern society does not celebrate the process of natural aging for women.“