A few years ago I had a thyroid condition called Graves Disease.
There were a couple of really rough patches for me when I was being treated for Graves.
The Doctor I went to was checking my thyroid during one of my exams and right after he did that I noticed I had trouble swallowing the Italian Soda I treated myself to after seeing him because I truly hated the man-
the soda was a bribe to get myself into that office.
In addition to having to see a Doctor I hated ( actually I dumped him first chance I got)- my hair broke apart if I did as much as look at it and then half of it fell out.
Which may have been traumatic had I not had so much to begin with I had to get it thinned when I had it cut.
So this thyroid thing was a pain in the neck ( ha, ha, ) and when it was all over with I never did grow back all of my hair but it was healthy and shiny which is something it hadn’t been for a very long time.
And then it started to turn gray- in fact, more then half of it is gray now like I care.I think it’s fine- I mean, my hair is shiny and bouncy and I have this cool Veronica Lake style going on so what’s the problem?
Everyone keeps telling me to dye it.
I liked my real hair color- it was dark brown with red highlights.
That’s pretty much all gone now.
And no dye job is going to bring it back.
I figure people want me to dye it because gray hair means I’m getting old- and if I’m getting old- that means that they are too.
Self centered Toad Munchers.
Look.
This is how I feel about getting older and having gray hair.
One of my best friends died before we turned 21.
He will never have gray hair.
He will never see me with gray hair.
I would have given anything for that to not be a sad fact of my life.
So to those who are concerned about my getting older I say:
People.
get your freaking priorities in order!
Irregular Bones 
I so totally relate to this. I have been fighting this for a year ever since I decided to let my color grow out. People actually walk up to me and ask me why I am letting my hair go gray — like I was sticking a needle in my eye or something — My hair dresser of over 10 years gave me so much grief that I fired her. She actually had her colleagues in the shop chiming in about in front of the other customers. I would tell them that I was “embracing my inner crone”, though I like your response better.
My niece is Goth and she thinks I should get it dyed jet black with dark purple highlights…and this is going to kill you….my Mom LIKES that idea.
Hmmmm….
Suggest to your mom that you both do that — wouldn’t that just be so precious. 🙂
Why not suggest to your mother that you both shave your heads!!??
Not only will people have NO idea what colour your hair is you will look like you’re members of a cult!
How could she say no???
Yeah.
And while I’m at it I should probably get that little flower tattoo she says look pretty on my shoulder.
Okay, now I know that I really am getting old. Lately, the baggers in the supermarkets have been asking me if I need help carrying my bags to my car. (I always say no). I have until now figured they were young kids who just wanted to sneak out to the parking lot for a smoke or to text someone. Well, today, the fifty-something year old supermarket cashier asked me if I needed help carrying two bags out to my car. I should just succumb to it all and say yes.
Sigh.
It keeps getting better. This weekend I was with a group of people. This guy introduces me to a two-year child as “Miss Lori”. I have officially achieved Spinsterhood.
Did you smack him over the back of the head with your handbag Lori?
Nah, with my umbrella.