I gotta tell ya, I am a little disappointed in the female gender today.
I had thought as women, we told each other stuff. We prepared each other.... we warned each other of the inevitable.
Apparently, that is not the case.
Last night I stood in front of my mirror and just looked at myself. I don't normally do that. But something was.... off.
I looked at my eyes, my nose, my skin... was there a new freckle? A new wrinkle? No....
As my eyes wandered up they rested on my hairline. Was it receding? Really? I am only 32!
But no, that wasn't it either.
I looked a bit closer.
And my jaw dropped.
No one warned me.
Not ONE SINGLE person in my life ever thought to mention this might happen.
I have a gray hair.
And not just any old gray hair...a bright white 'grey' hair.
I am not prepared for this. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that I am getting old... only to dry up immediately as my shock was replaced with denial.
Surely that was a rogue hair and a fluke of some sort and I am not really going gray at 32. Surely that does not happen to women. I have a 8 month old. I can't possibly be turning into an old blue haired ninny.
I wanted to call up someone and cry and complain and hear those familiar words, "Oh honey, that happened to me too! It'll be just fine!"
But I don't know anyone that happened too.
That I know of. If you know what I mean.
So here I was, standing in my bathroom, holding a 'bright white' gray hair, realizing that life was all downhill from here, and that according to my body, I was officially old.
I made a mental checklist of the lifestyle changes that would be taking place.
1. People would start asking me how old my 'grandkids' were.
2. When out with my hubby, other women would mentally classify me as a cougar.
3. Men would rush to help me cross the street.
4. My dinners at restaurants would now have a 'discount'.
5. If ever out with my mom (not gray BTW) people would think we were sisters.
I brought the lone hair that forever changed my outlook on life into the bedroom and showed my husband. I held it up and asked him very calmly,
"Do you know what this is?"
He looked at my hand and said, "No."
"Its a gray hair. I am old. And dried up and pruney."
This was it! The day I realized that I couldn't ever wear mini skirts again, that my personalized license plate wasn't cool, that I admitted that I didn't recognize one single song on MTV, that Zima is not a hip drink, and that I would never again be considered pretty by my husband!
"Well, I still think your hot."
Praise God there was never a more important time for my husband to have the exactly right words to say to me! And he so came though.
Goodbye carefree days of no maintenance hair and hello Nice n' Easy.
Heres what I just have to know...is this like a big secret? Do women just not talk about it? Am I going to be visited in the night by the National Association of Women's police force?