“Don’t pluck them!” scolded a friend. “More will just grow back.”
I started with a couple white hairs in my late 20s, and then five or so by my mid-30s. They have generously multiplied now that I am 40. Occasionally my husband points out a rogue white hair at the back of my head that had been growing for a long time. I make him pluck it out.
“Just dye your hair. Everyone does it,” advised another friend.
I’ve never dyed my hair, and I’m proud of it. Hairstylists say they know I’ve never dyed it because it’s healthy. It has a silky texture with natural shine. I’m afraid of damaging my hair.
I know I’m lucky to have made it this far a la natural. Some people turn completely gray in their 20s while others have no hair at all. I understand that, but there’s another more important reason I haven’t dyed my hair.
I’ve been donating my hair to the Locks of Love charity for over 12 years. They only accept natural hair for the wigs they create for kids with cancer. Locks of Love requires 10 inches of hair to make a wig. If I get a bob-style haircut, I can usually donate my hair every two years. Dying my hair means the end of me giving a needy child natural hair to wear.
I’m losing the battle between nature and my tweezers. I just can’t pluck them all anymore. I will probably dye my hair one day, but first I’ll try to squeeze in one more donation to Locks of Love.