My First Grey Hair

Picture this. I wake up last Saturday to a beautiful sunrise outside the bedroom window, Ryan is next to me, the dogs are whining to be let outside, everything is normal. I wash my face wash in cold water, brush my teeth, and race off to the gym. I take my jacket off, and adjust my headband in the locker room. And there she was...

In the dull, unflattering, fluorescent light, perched atop my head, sticking out from under my headband, and staring back at me in the mirror. My first grey hair. Twice as thick as the rest of my hair, and twice as straight as the rest of my hair. I knew it would happen someday. But, at the tender age of twenty-six???

I had two choices. Fight or flight. Panic was slowly starting to set in. But after my workout (great timing to relieve some stress), and a mild meltdown at home in front of Ryan, I decided to embrace it. Grey hair. Big deal. I knew a girl in school who had at least ten or fifteen grey hairs and she was only sixteen years old. I could be facing much worse things, I suppose. And, plenty of people have reminded me that it has nothing to do with age.

So, here's Marie.

Yes, I named it. It is part of the embracing strategy. And anyone who has ever watched Everybody Loves Raymond will  know why I picked that name. Well, Marie and I are off to begin our day now.