So I decided to stop colouring my hair. I say it’s because I wanted to embrace my age, to stop denying my 51 years. To have the freedom to live in Taipei for a year without the pressure of needing to colour my roots. The truth is, it’s because I’m lazy. One good thing came out of my self diagnosed possible depression, my funk, my ‘it’s been a really bad few years’. I have no desire to leave the house so my grey roots aren’t really an issue.
I was inspired by all the women on Pinterest posting pictures of their process growing out their coloured hair. Of course they look cool, and chic, rebels. I however do not look cool. I think I’m OK with that. Looking at the pictures I probably could have combed my hair. I’m also realizing how much I look like my Dad.