There are some things you get from your parents that really do not make you happy. The size of my arse and my bunions are two such lovely delights. But... there are also some things that make you dance about with glee.
Aside from my obvious intelligence (stop laughing please) I was blessed with being almost 5ft 7 which I LOVE. I find it to be the perfect height for me! And on top of that- I have amazing hair. I'm not going to pretend to be modest about it; my hair is the envy of many! Thick, dark brown, long, shiny, grows quickly and can be worn curly or straight - what is not to love!
However, we have a problem - which was first discovered in 2007. That was when my first grey (or silver, if you will) hair was discovered. I was 27 and let me tell you, that was a dark day. There and then I vowed I would make it to my next birthday before having to dye it. And so I did. I reached the ripe old age of 28 and still - with the odd pluck here I there - I didn't have to reach for the bottle for another year. Before I knew it my 32nd birthday was on the horizon and still the silver foxette in me remain subdued. I was delighted!
My fall from grace was just around the corner though. I'm 33 in May (when the chuff did that happen?) and all of a sudden - the white hairs have decided to come out in force. You still can't see them but lurking underneath my mop, just behind my ears they are loads of them! Pinning my hair up - in a half pony tail is the stuff nightmares are made of. I even spotted a couple of the pesky buggers on the top of my head. They are beginning to take over!
Dying my hair to cover the grey isn't really that big a deal. It's more of a mental thing for me. It signifies the point in time when I have to accept that I'm no longer a 'young woman'. I've known that for some time but to see it in such a physical manifestation, well.. it makes me realise time is slipping on past. Life is going more quickly than ever before. I'd just like to hit the pause button for a few years.