Roots

Ok, I am going to make an admission- I dye my hair.
It's pure vanity, I know, but the gray is spreading faster than crab grass across my scalp.
I didn't inherit the good hair genes, I got the early graying ones.

I went blonde in high school. My hair had been a reddish- blonde, but I had moved to Florida and wanted my hair to match my Hawaiian tropic tan. I tried lemon juice, and Sun In. I achieved modest results. The Florida sunshine and the chlorine in the pool did more to lighten my tresses than the dyes.

Pregnancy made me swear off hair dyes for a while, but then I found some gray hairs. Now the war had begun in earnest. Professional blonde highlights covered those few stray, grays.

As I entered my 40's many emotions were stirring deep within me. My life felt as fake as my false blonde hair. I slowly peeled back the layers of camouflage, painstakingly uncovering my authentic self. I was ready to get back to my roots.

I went to my hairdresser and asked her to bring me back to my original shade. She was shocked and refused to do something "so drastic." I thanked her,removed the cape, and went home. Two hours later I emerged with a beautiful mane of shining red locks.

Looking in the mirror I saw for the first time in twenty years, the girl I had left behind.