Graying gracefully means accepting who you are

I turned 60 last year. To my surprise, it wasn't quite just another birthday.

Maybe it was our last gloomy winter, but I found myself in an existential crisis. I've spent a lot of time in the last few months thinking about what's going to give my life meaning in the however-many years I have left, about what I want now that the nest is empty and all that. You get the idea. I spend a lot of time thinking.

I also have spent time thinking - more than any smart, independent, fairly liberated woman should - about my hair.

As I result, I'm several awkward months into letting my hair be itself after a few years of chemical enhancement.

This is not necessarily about what I think would make me look best. I'm pretty sure I would look best - at least from a distance - if I spent a lot of money getting lowlights and highlights every six weeks.

But that isn't cheap, and I am.

Plus, I'm a child of the '70s. The natural-woman, blue-jeans-baby part of me rebels against too much artifice and chemical exposure.

And it seems every brunette my age is covering up what nature has done to her with the same five shades of brown dye or, of course, blond. I am not a blond. Not yet. It feels a little rebellious to consider looking real.

But this goes way deeper, to how I'm going to cope with aging and changes I didn't choose. All that existential stuff.

Growing out my naturally salt-and-pepper hair - actually it seems to be more like salt and dark chocolate - is about being the kind of woman who wants to look the truth square in the face every once in a while. I want to age gracefully. I don't know how that works, but I think it involves seeing who you are and accepting it. The truth seems like the best foundation for the changes I can choose.

I'm not going to pretend I like the lines around my eyes or what gravity has done to my jaw line. But who are we kidding? No amount of dye is going to make me look 30 again. What's more likely to make me look - and feel - young for my age is exercise, a healthy diet, and good posture, plus some combination of curiosity, serenity, spunk, and, yes, grace. I think.

I'm not crazy. If people tell me the gray makes me look really old, I'll reconsider all this philosophy. I live in an ageist society, particularly when it comes to women. I'm sure I can age gracefully with highlights.

Stacey Burling is a medical reporter for The Inquirer. sburling@phillynews.com

215-854-4944 @StaceyABurling