I have always had secrets that I have not fully shared with the greater world. Due to insecurities and the general feeling that people will think I am crazy.
One, that I was a psychic medium, and two, I have crazy white hair. Crazy. White. Hair. White, not gray, Wild, wild, wiry white hair. I have dyed it black since I was 21 (my natural hair color). I consistently had roots showing (it's a full-time job dying your hair every 2-3 weeks if you don't want to show roots!). For the love of beauty, youth, and acceptance.
I started to go white at 16, I had skunk patches, at both sides of my head behind the ears and one streak on the top left side. On my 21st birthday, I bought a bottle of jet black dye, plopped it on my head, and never looked back. I did have quite a lot of fun in the hair game. I have had the experience of living life as a redhead, brunette, blonde, and black-haired woman. And yes, people do treat you differently based on hair color.
I had decided in my mid-twenties that I would let my hair go gray/white at some point, but I was too young to do it then. At that time, I arbitrarily decided that my 45th birthday was the marker of when I can let my whites run wild. I would be "old enough" to let them show. I waited for that day for 24 years. It finally turned my arbitrary time and I let it go. I let go of the hair dye, the standards of society and started to embrace all-natural me.
Somewhere in those 24 years, I found that I do not find worth in beauty or youth. I found worth in my inner strength and faith. I found a source of power inside me I never knew existed. A wisdom blossomed from the inside out. I started to not give a fuck (excuse my french) of other people's opinions or validations. That may have come with age and becoming a Mom. I do have to admit, I did get sloppy there for a while, could be due to those little people I raised. No make-up ever, no real dress-up clothes...but slowly working myself to some sort of middle ground, where I have surrendered to the part of me that likes to be real and genuine and the part of me that likes to be dressed up like a doll. Now I haven't seen that side in years but a funny thing happened when I unleashed the white hair. Once it was all grown out and I had cut out almost every last spec of dark in my hair, I found a new confidence come out and I actually wanted to put on makeup and dress nice again.
I was once a girl who would not leave the house without outfit, hair and make-up done. I am now a girl who accepts her appearance, even the white hair and extra pounds. I now wear it proudly and when people look at me, as they do, I stand a little taller. (C'Mon, man, no need to stare at this white hair.)
I have white hair, it's different. It's unique. It's just me.
I shall let my freak flag fly high and wear it proud.
P.S. One other thing, My Nana Davis always proudly wore her white hair as well. It runs in my family's genes. It is part of who I am and where I come from. It's my ancestry and part of their living legacy. We stand on the backs of our ancestors in everything we do.
P.P.S. Funny hair turn, I now have black patches in the middle of my forehead and the two spots behind my ears where I had the white patches. Yin and yang.
Please be kind.
Hope and light lives within us all.
xoxo
Joyce
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“I don’t understand it any more than you do, but one thing I’ve learned is that you don’t have to understand things for them to be.” ― Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time
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