GRAY's Anatomy

Of course I love the show.

No, I did not spell the word "gray" incorrectly. I am well aware that the show's title is spelled with the letter 'e'. But, if we want to be technical, "Gray's Anatomy" can be used to describe Henry Gray's book .

My point is much more shallow. Extremely petty. And a bit exaggerated. I am dealing with my own anatomy. My hair.

Just the other day, I looked in the mirror at my air-dried hair. I was in the bangs area, when all of a sudden I noticed this unfamiliar object. Surrounded by a mixture of faded blacks, nearly browns, and highlighted blond strands of hair, lied an innocent, little creature.

It was a gray hair.

Panic quickly settled and I fumbled to find my phone. I gave Ian a ring. Hoping he would feed into my always dramatic antics, he shot me down by saying, "Okay Kea. I've had gray hairs since I was a teenager. Big deal."

I was silenced. Just like that, my gray hair seemed inferior to Ian's years of growing them. I sat in the mirror and tried desperately to hide this strand of shame. 

I began texting my friends and family, only to have them reply with lines just short of saying, "SO WHAT! BIG DEAL! WE HAVE THEM TOO!"

I have since come to grips with my gray anatomy. I seek comfort in knowing that there are bottles in every aisle of the grocery store that will befriend me in my time of despair. Their names are L'oreal, Dark & Lovely, Clairol, and several others. 

I am beginning to think this GRAY thing is not so bad at all. I have discovered people who exude confidence with their gray locks. Makes me think I should welcome just a few more into my world. 

Besides, gray is the new black!

      

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