New Month, New Mood

Well hey there Masterina's. 

Is that a dumb name to call the readers of Mastering My Midlife? Masterina's. I dunno, it seems fitting for right now, let's just go with it shall we?

And going with it is exactly what I want to talk to you about this month. It's November 1st, which means, new month - new mood, new attitude. Autumn is in full swing and I'm feeling like I need to publicly bring back my virtue of the month and for November, I've chosen...

DISPASSIONATE

It means to not be influenced by strong emotion, and so able to be rational and impartial. In other words, no matter what's going on, if you're dispassionate, it means you're able to go with the flow (in my brain anyway).

We mere months away from the end of 2018 and I for one cannot wait to get it over with. That's something I rarely do, wish away time like that, but this year has been hard yo. I feel like we have been asked to surrender to within in an inch of our lives and sanity. I don't know about you, but I've been stretched thin, worn out, feeling used and abused and like I'm the butt of some great cosmic joke and I have not gone gently into that good nite, no sirree. I have not wanted to surrender. Seems every single hill I have stood upon this year was the hill I was prepared to die on - meaning I was constantly picking one battle or the next.

And I'm tired.

Happy to report that I'm finally feeling more human since I was taken over by vertigo in April. I'm not dizzy anymore and my heart is rhythmic for the first time in what feels like four years and I'm being fed creatively. So on that front, all should be well with me right?

Not so much. I've gained a bunch of weight from not being able to exercise and trying to eat everything in site to build up my blood. That's first. Next, I've had a creative parting of the ways with a team of people that I greatly admired and I'm sad to see that our project together will not have legs.  I've been over looked for jobs because there were no Indigenous storylines and at the same time I've been put forward for EVERYTHING with Indigenous storylines regardless of whether the shows are a good fit or not. I feel like I've been in a box this whole year. Or like I have been buried alive.

But now I'm here to say that I don't think that's the actual case. I think perhaps I was planted and now I am starting to grow. We all have. If you feel like this year has been super hard and ass-kicky too, that things have felt all dark and gloomy and you just wanted to pump your fist and rage against the injustices of the world, you're not alone. I feel like the universe has been culling things from our lives to make room for better stuff, nicer people, greater more fulfilling lives. It's been taking things away from us knowing that those things would NOT ultimately serve us or our hopes and dreams.

And while at times it has felt as though we've been trying to crest the wave of a tsunami only to wind up pummelled into a rocky shore, left to pick through the wreckage of 2018, that wave has cleared a bunch of shit away and we can now - dare I say it - start to rebuild.

Rebuild a body with health and vitality. Rebuild a career with people who empower us. Rebuild relationships with love and compassion. And be strong enough to face a world that sometimes feels cruel and ugly and violent and stupid and wrong and evil and dark. We can now stand, stripped down to the bare bone, in our truth and be our best light-generating, way-leading selves.

AND another thing... We can also see through the garbage that used to trip us up. We have stronger bullshit meters. We're less likely to be doormats. And we do not have to take the emotional rollercoaster ride for anything. Things can go wrong and we'll survive, really awesome stuff can happen and we don't have to get so caught up in the success that we forget what's important. We can be more like the ancient Stoics. We can be what? What can we be now that we've been through this baptism of fire that's been 2018?

That's right... DISPASSIONATE. We can be cool, even keel and rosy.

This will also allow us to see ourselves in a brand new way, perhaps give us the insight to see ourselves the way others see us. Or love ourselves exactly as we are, flaws and all.

Allow me to give you a tangible example of what I mean and this was a real eye-opener.

One year ago - November 2017 I decided that over the holiday I was going to grow out my grey hair to see what was beneath all that color. I gathered some images of silver sisters for inspiration, went away to a cottage and had at it.

Once the holidays were over, I got back to the city, had to go back to the writer's room and I hated my hair. It was ugly, old, uncool, etc. etc.

Cut to three months later being laid out on the bathroom floor with vertigo waiting for the color to process in my hair, hoping I'd be able to rinse it out before I barfed. What was THAT madness? I made the decision to try again. Once my next writing gig was up - I was going to take the summer and (sing it) Let it grow, let it grow... 

Now, as many of you already know it has not been an easy journey. I have gone back and forth and back and forth. Wanting to color it, thinking it's fine, hating it to bits and back again.

Yesterday I was looking through some old photos and kept seeing all these pictures of myself with dark hair and I immediately wanted to call my stylist to make this grey nightmare end. But then it occurred to me - maybe I could look at some of those early photos that made me want to embark on this journey in the first place. I mean if I could be swayed to want to go back to dyed hair by a mere image, perhaps said image could persuade me to stay the course. So I started looking and a crazy thing happened... I saw myself... and my hair in a whole new light because it was looking very similar to an image of someone's hair that I LOVED. We didn't look so different.

I'd had one or two friends say they liked how my grey was coming in. He Who Shall Not Be Named said he liked it too. Yet somehow I could not see what they saw until I revisited that photo. Now I'd like to ask you to look...

This is a pretty darned dynamic example of how sometimes the story in our heads blurs out the reality of what is right in front of us. We get so attached to the drama, the heartache, the stress, the idea that we've been clinging to that we can't see that the storm has passed, that we survived, we triumphed, we're beautiful, we made it etc. 

If this year has taught me anything, it's taught me to not believe everything I think (words to live by, am considering having them tattooed onto my forehead), it's taught me to let go and let God, and for heaven's sake the biggest lesson of all is THIS TOO SHALL PASS. Don't get so worked up over it.

So, together, this November - let's be dispassionate. And, November 1st is world vegan day - so why not try going vegan for the month. It won't kill you, in fact it will save the lives of several animals and you don't have to do it alone.

Go to Veganuary and take the pledge. They'll help you out and you don't have to wait until January. Plus going vegan gives you great skin - in case you needed a little extra motivation.

Loads of love,
Shan

Sticking with it...

Hello beauties,

Thanks again for your support, wisdom and kind words on my last post about transitioning to silver hair. It's been a fascinating journey to be sure and far from over. There were so many times during the past few months - but this last month especially - that I wanted to run screaming to my stylist and shout "make it stop!" I hate my hair. Hate these grey roots. I feel ugly. I feel old. This is stupid.

I continue to read stories of liberation, self-love and healthy locks on IG and I simply don't share that experience. It hasn't felt wonderful or liberating or great. I've googled and YouTubed and Pinterested myself into a frenzy of back and forth - Keep it, color it, keep it, color it. Not even one day to the next, but quite literally minute to minute. This transition was making me so crazy one dear friend suggested that it seemed to be an energy drain and that perhaps now simply wasn't the right time.

I agreed, yes now is the wrong time. Maybe I can try again in another ten years or so, but the very idea of going back to the dye bottle bi-monthly absolutely made my skin crawl.

One tiny bonus of this process is that I have little hairs beginning to grow back where my hair has been thinning for years. It's not major, I'll likely never go back to the glorious thick mane I had in my 20's, but it's still promising. Not to mention the fact that I'm no longer responsible for washing all those nasty chemicals down the drain. One noble reader pointed that out to me and it was an aha moment for real. As an animal advocate and environmental steward I hated the idea that I was using a product that you just know had to be tested on animals at some point, or that was polluting our water supply each time it washed down the sink.

So for those reasons and more, here I am. I'm four months in, I'm armed with a few new role models and quite honestly I feel like I'm part of a rebellion of sorts, and I still have silver roots.

It's going to take much longer than I'd ever imagined. I mean in the back of my head I'd always assumed it would be around 3 ish years, but to get the style and length I'm after it'll likely be closer to 4-5 years. My god that's a long time. On the other hand, on the shy side it's 48 months, because my hair is so dark and roots show so quickly, I was coloring every two weeks which means that's 96 boxes of dye that I don't need to buy. At a minimum of an hour to prep, color and rinse, that's 4 days of my life I've spared from coloring. Cool, huh?

And hopefully, one day, I'll eventually look in the mirror, see that silver next to my face and it will look normal and like me. At the moment it still doesn't but that's okay. Maybe I'm getting to know a new me.

One thing I did do, and would highly recommend if you're trying to grow out your grey hair and are struggling - I got a precision cut. I'm going to ditch the layers and go for more of an "all one length" style. I also had my stylist tone out the brassy summer sun from the ends and somehow, it's made my hair look more uniform which is shocking considering the drastic difference between light and dark. But I'm more settled in my decision now.

I feel like I may almost be able to forget about it for a while which would be a welcome relief. And on those rotten days when I look in the mirror and don't love my reflection, there's always a good hat to be worn.

This process isn't easy (for me) but I'm counting on it being worth it in the end.

Big hugs,

Shan

We NEED to have this conversation...

Ladies, I'm conflicted.

Deeply conflicted. On the surface, what's vexing me may seem like a shallow topic; hair color... I mean with everything that's going on in our world today, who cares about hair color? We watch the news. There are forest fires raging, mass shootings, global warming, Harvey Weinstein accusers being accused themselves, and don't even get me started on factory farming and animal agriculture - ugh will there ever be good news?

Then you turn to your email inbox and find a blog post from me moaning about hair color, should you even care? If you're a woman, I think you'll wanna discuss this with me because I'm not talking about - Should I go lighter? Get highlights? Or go red? I'm talking about stepping off the color wheel altogether. There is a pretty hardcore double standard out there against women going grey.

Don't believe me? Check out this ARTICLE about Celebrities who have confessed to covering up their silver strands. First of all "confess" like it's a sin and second the tag line reads: See which stars admit to having -- and hiding -- their grays. Like it's some dirty little secret. It obviously shouldn't be, but it is.

Frankly I have so much to say on the subject that I don't even know where to begin. You might wanna pause here, go grab a coffee or make a cup of tea and settle in because gurl, we got stuff to talk about.

I come from a culture where we respect old age and wisdom, especially in women. Our grandmothers are our knowledge keepers. I can hear my dad now saying "respect your elders". In fact if I sass him, he still says it to me now and I'm a grown ass woman. Then there's my mom. My mom embraced her silver tresses in her mid-forties and she rocked it. She's gorgeous. She was never ashamed of her grey hair.  So what's the problem? I should be build for this transition, no?

Well, I work in an industry where youth is worshipped and age is almost reviled. (If you're not up to speed, I write for film and television) And while I'm not in front of the camera, people still seem more interested in a young "fresh" perspective. If you seem old, they become afraid that you're out of touch, out of date or not current somehow. As if the wisdom of your years or your life experience doesn't make you a great writer. Which sort of stinks because it doesn't seem to be that way with other types of writing I don't think. Or maybe it is and I'm just not privy to it. Luckily for me, I still look pretty youthful so I get by.

Anyway - that's only really part of the discussion. Let me give you some backstory.

A year or two ago, I was cruising through Pinterest as you do when you're procrastinating instead of working, and I came across the image of a woman who I came to later learn was model Sam Gold. This is that image.

And I thought, wow. When I grow up, I want to be her. 

So then I began wondering, how old is old enough? The general consensus seems to be after 50. I discussed it at length with He Who Shall Not Be Named, and he agreed, sometime after 50 it would be okay, but not really now. Now seems too soon.

I toyed with the idea some more. I reached out to my trusted and beloved stylist Natalia in Vancouver, just to see what she thought. She's an award winning competitive colorist. She took care of my hair for over seven years when I lived out west, if anyone could give me sound advice, it would be her. She said she didn't think it would be a good idea. It would be too high maintenance if I colored it silver and I am not a high-maintenance hair girl, and if I elected to grow it, it would be a long and painful transition. So the resounding answer was no.

Hmm. 
I wondered, should I get a second opinion? I had found a colorist here in Toronto whom I adored. We were together for a year and a half before she moved away, but we'd stayed in touch. So I texted her and asked, should I go grey? I got a "hell no", it's not you. Okay. I sat with that.

Still not satisfied, I went to my then current stylist and had her pick through my tresses to look at the roots I'd let peek through and said, what do you think about me transitioning to grey? Again I got a no. You're too young. It will age you by more than ten years. Don't do it. She was kind of a chatty hair dresser - like it would take me hours just to get a cut so I messaged Natalia and asked for a recommendation and she suggested I try a friend of hers - also a competitive award winning colorist. 

She gave me a fantastic hair cut. But I didn't dare ask her about transitioning. Not on our first meeting. I let the subject die for a while.

Now at this point, you may be thinking, of course your hairdressers are going to say don't do it, they make a living off of you, but that isn't the case. I go for cuts mostly and only ever get my hair color-corrected about once a year. The rest of the time, I box color. The reason for that? I have to color on average every two weeks. EVERY TWO WEEKS PEOPLE.

You're now seeing why I'm so curious to stop this hamster wheel of dying aren't you?

Over this past Christmas I had a hiatus from the show I was working on. He Who Shall Not Be Named, his mom and I got together at a cottage in the woods for the holidays and I decided it would be a good time to experiment. I let my hair grow for six weeks then asked them what they thought. Both my beloved and my mother-in-law said nope. Doesn't suit you. You're much too young. You have such lovely dark hair.

When we got home, I covered the roots and thought whew, yes. This looks better. Dodged a bullet there. What the hell was I thinking. I'm not ready to go grey for crying out loud. 

But then several boxes of dye later, back in the cycle of coloring every two damned weeks - I got hit with vertigo. It wasn't until I found myself dizzy as fuck, on the bathroom floor, ready to barf at any second - waiting for the timer to ding so I could wash the dye out that I though - Shan, what the hell are you doing? This isn't right! Was I so vain that I could quite literally be on my death bed but I'd still drag my sorry butt to the bathroom to color my hair?

Once I got feeling better, I went back to my "new" stylist for a cut and I tried again. Hey, I'm nothing if not persistent. And guess what, noble reader? She said no. I had let my roots grow in for about three weeks so she was able to see what was going on. Her opinion was that I was again - too young - and I was much too salt-and-pepper. I wasn't white enough. What? 

That was new. I had been convinced that I was like 90% grey, but I guess that's not the case. I still had quite a bit of dark hair.  Right then and there in the chair, I decided out loud that I would let it grow. She laughed and said see you in a few months for a color. She told me I would hate it. It won't be what I think it is. It will be course and frizzy and like "witch hair". 

Witch hair? Omg, is that what we think of when we think of grey hair?  Grannies and witches?

It kind of is.

In any case, I thought maybe my stylist could be wrong. I could love it.  I knew I had the upcoming summer off to work on some projects I have in development. I didn't have to go anywhere or see anyone - I could wear big floppy sunhats - it's the perfect time. Then by September in time for the Toronto International Film Festival, I could make a decision. Keep it, or color it.

Oh, if only it were that simple.

No my lovelies - it's become an obsession and I literally flip flop back and forth on a daily basis. I'm driving He Who Shall Not Be Named crazy!

When I committed to doing this the second time around, this time for real, I had a new mindset. I was "ready" or so I though. I ran through my life in my mind's eye and thought you know, in my twenties I was a riot girl. I did things randomly and spur of the moment. I ran off and joined a cruise ship to travel the world, I followed a boy to America, I lived in a yoga ashram - I was doing what you're supposed to do when you're young and wild. I was young and wild. Sorry mom.

Then in my thirties I began to try to figure out who I was. If my twenties were about seeking outward adventure, my thirties became about introspection. I continued with the ashram thing into my thirties where I met my one true love and later fully committed to who I wanted to be - I was a writer. So I set about working my ass off, nose to the grind-stone as they say - doing what you do in your thirties and making my way in the world. Now in my forties, I want to embrace them the same way. Really embody this mid-life thing. I could still be vibrant and spontaneous, but I also know more of who I am, I've had a tiny bit of success and my life is better than it has ever been.

I wanted to embrace all that 40 could offer - and grey hair seemed part of that package. It was truly grey so why not be my fully authentic self? Hell yes! I started going on YouTube and finding all these amazing women I have come to learn call themselves the #silversisters. They were like this glorious white, silver and grey sorority of every age and background you could imagine all rocking their grey. I then found this kickass chick on IG who started a page called Grombre which gave me tons of inspiration to fuel myself on the inevitable bad days.

Mostly, women talk about how liberating it is. I have three good friends who did it long before me and they all love their hair, the choice they made, the freedom in being color-free and true to who they are. They embody their inner goddesses.

I spoke to a couple of silver sisters in the dog park - both of whom encouraged me to go for it, said I'd love it and will look great once it grows in. 

Of course I spoke with my mom. I asked her how she did it. How she felt about it and what she thought and she was 100% on board with my transition. All good stuff, right? So what's the problem, you ask? Why am I conflicted? Why do I so desperately need to talk to you about this and hear from you about it?

Because overwhelmingly the world still sees grey hair as old and the truth of the matter is that my last hairdresser, the stylist who's chair I made this decision to transition in was right! I kind of hate it. I don't want people to see it. I wear my hats everywhere. I feel embarrassed about it and I feel old.

Ugh, really? Maybe I can find something else for my forties to be about and this can be a fifties thing??

But on the good days, I love the light in it, how it sparkles in a way my dark hair never did. It's a much cooler tone now because my  dark hair is a cool dark, near black color and I'd been coloring it all more of a warmer espresso brown for decades. But I'll be dead honest, it's at a hideous stage. I knew this day would come and I know it's going to last for well over a year or two - it will likely take three years to get it where I want it to be, but I don't know if I have the stones to see it through.

Sure, there are options. People add highlights and lowlights to blend it in, but to me that never looks good. You get a sort of bloronge color which is like a blond that goes brassy and orange. It looks fake.

But my mom made an excellent point the other day - She asked, do you really want to be a sixty-year-old lady who has fake dyed hair? No I do not, but sixty is miles away. Could I not embrace the grey in my fifties - late fifties even? Am I hitting this a decade or fifteen years too soon? But if I wait, then I will be 90% grey and won't the transition be even harder then? Especially because my skin will age too?

I'd like to look like Sam Gold when I AM fifty, not spend my fifties going through this hell of a transition.

However - There are people whom I admire greatly who swear they will never transition. People like my beloved Norma Kamali.

I actually might want to be like Norma even more than I want to be like Sam!
But I also want to be me.

So this is the conflict. I love it when I see a stylish woman rocking her grey. I love my mom's hair. But the truth is, I may not actually like it on me - yet I am not ready to throw in the towel yet. In fact, I read this quote from a twenty-something beauty who went grey - 
She had this to say: 

"Why don't you dye it?" My favorite question. Next comes my oversimplified answer, because two trips to the salon per month is way too expensive. If you've embraced your gray, you know that's just a sliver of the truth. The real answer is because I started graying before I was ten and wasn't that much too young to stress over aging? Because I don't want to miss how my gray hair changes over the years. Because so many women in my life want to go natural but are shamed into dying it by their spouse... or their friends... or even their mom. Because I no longer subscribe to the notion that, for women, as essential part of aging is disguising your age. Because after 10 years of dying my hair, I've come to realize that the color that looks best on me is the one growing out of my head. Because this is really me, and can't the real me be beautiful too?"


Okay, do you love this girl as much as I do!? She's hella wise beyond her years. And she looks great with grey hair BTW. She's on the @grombre site on IG.

We do get shamed for grey. People say things like "She really let herself go" or "look at that skunk line" (I happen to think skunks are a super cute animal if anyone cares but don't want to be called a skunk). Then there's the whole Cruella De Vil baddie.

I don't want to post a picture of my hair on here because I don't want the discussion to be about what I look like. Because regardless of how it looks or how it might look on me - I'd really truly love to hear your honest thoughts and opinions on transitioning to grey hair in general. Nay, I NEED to hear your thoughts. 

Do you feel boxed in, and forced to color? Do you just like the way your colored hair feels after it's colored? Have you let your hair grow out and love it? Hate it? Have you ditched the dye or are you dye-hard.

Please have this discussion with me by commenting below. 

Thanks loves,
Shan