Living in the Gray Area

This was it.

The moment of truth.

I found myself staring in disbelief at the reflection in the mirror as the light perfectly hit the silvery coarse wires of hair at the top of my head.

For twenty-six years I had the natural brunette hair that God blessed me with.  I have always found pride in myself for never dying, highlighting, or perming my subtle brown hair.  In fact, the color changed with the seasons just like the leaves so it never got old.  I enjoyed the sun-kissed blonde that traced my face when I had been out in the summer sand.  And, just as the daylight faded, the blonde would disappear and cinnamon would come in its place-just in time for the holidays.  2014 was the year that all of that changed.

For the first time in my life, I noticed my soft brown hair turning dull.  Maybe it was the outward signs of exhaustion I had felt after finally taking time to breathe.  Maybe it was the fact that everything I had been through had taken a toll.  Whatever the reason, I was living in the gray area.

I have always said that I would never dye my hair until "I needed to".

Well, world.  

It was time.

September 5, 2014 I walked into the salon and handed my hair over to a man with an English accent.  

He was kind as he talked me through three hours of waiting.  

Wash, dry, and start a new stage of my life.