I turned 30 this past November, and I think I’ve handled the change of decades rather well. For one, I fled to another country for three months, and kicked off the new year at a small music bar in Nottingham with a handful of musician friends who were touring, Robin Hood, Maid Marian, and the Merry Men.  For another, it was the first birthday in 10 years that didn’t end up in tears. #winning

When I returned to the States I went full throttle into my “bucket list,” getting a tattoo, running a half marathon, building a new business venture, moving into my own place… needless to say it’s actually been a great year. I still feel young, but with the wisdom, mistakes, and experience of my 20s tucked neatly in my memory as important reminders.

You see, aging doesn’t really bother me, from an aesthetic standpoint. I’m a firm believer that if you understand how to dress yourself properly (and not like a desperate teenage whore) and do your hair and make-up classy, not clown-like, you can look great at any age. I don’t believe in Botox or plastic surgery, and I have written off any wrinkles as “laugh lines,” as in “my life has just been so exciting and here’s the disfigurement of my face to prove it!”

Until yesterday… when I discovered my first Grey. And no, he wasn’t a handsome millionaire with a S & M fetish. The only thing kinky about this Grey was the texture.

To be honest, I think it’s been there for a few months and I wrote it off as a “blonde streak” from my days at the beach. But as I peered closer in the mirror and took note of the slight silver shimmer and coarse frizz of this one, fine hair, I had a full on meltdown and burst into tears.  Suddenly, being 30, single and living alone felt like the curse of death. I might as well just get a bunch of cats and develop a pattern of self-medicating whilst drinking and ordering off HSN. I know, I know. Grab a box of hair dye and no one will be the wiser.  I WILL BE THE WISER. I pride myself on the fact that my hair is completely natural and I haven’t had to spend an exorbitant amount of money on coloring and processing. The way some people aren’t prone to cellulite (I hate those people, by the way), I am not prone to early greying. 

So 30… you win this round. But when that second round of Grey comes around, I will be ready. Game ON.