I’m a little in denial about the fact that I am going to be 30 at the end of May. I don’t know why: I have two kids, will have been married nearly 8 years, my husband is already 30 and many of my friends are. For some reason, 30 just seems incomprehensible.
I was always the youngest at work, youngest in our Sunday School classes, youngest everywhere. And now … I’m not. It’s OK. It just takes some getting used to.
With the event of raising a daughter who is 3 going on 15, and that whole almost-30 thing, I have sprouted
quite a lot of a few gray hairs.
But there’s this thing.
My husband has all but forbid me to dye my hair.
There are very few things that he is super-opionated about when it comes to my appearance or what I do. He pretty much thinks I’m awesome, to my 10-year astonishment. But when we started dating, my hair was kind of purple.
source: Emily Carlin
I’ve always wanted red hair, madly, deeply. I have green eyes and thought that I needed that red hair to match. I used to dye my hair a Natural Instincts shade that had the word mahogany in it, I think. (Semi-permanent color, praise be.)
I think right before we started dating I got a little too adventurous, and literally, my hair was more purple than red. To his credit, Mr. V never said anything about it until after we were married. And then he made his opinion known: he liked my hair in its unprocessed state and lived in fear that it might turn purple ever again.
So I’ve maybe had highlights in the last 7 1/2 years, but never dyed it. I like my dark brown color. It has a lot of natural highlights. But it’s also starting to gray here are there.
Want to take bets on how long it’ll be before I give in to the bottle? (Maybe I’ll even go mahogany for old times’ sake.) I’ll let you know the results of smackdown Love of My Life versus Feeling Old and Gray.