“I thought nothing could be as bad as red hair. But now I know it’s ten times worse to have green hair.”

So spoke Anne of Green Gables in the first book of the series by Lucy Montgomery. Every year I reread this series because it describes a beautiful, natural world and contains a strong grasp of human nature.

What motivated me to first read the books was my dad telling me that Anne reminded him of me. So of course, I was curious to learn how my dad perceived me.

I take it as a great compliment.

Alas, Anne and I have so much in common that I found myself in the same predicament as she - having accidentally dyed my hair green.

It started last week when students started coming into my room announcing they’d just watched old school video footage that contained scenes of a younger Ms.Hutson from several years ago.

Girls were telling me ‘You were so beautiful!’

And of course, I zoomed in on the word ‘were’.

As in, no longer.

The thing that irritates me is that because I don’t wrinkle easily, I actually look very similar to that younger me, but it’s my hair that ages me because it has gone very gray.

I started to find gray hairs at age 14 -the same age as my students.

I feared I’d be fully gray by the time I was in my twenties -but I didn’t.

Then I expected to go gray in my thirties, but again, I didn’t.

So by the time the gray took over in my forties, I felt pretty fortunate that I had been granted a couple extra decades of raven hair. Thus, with an attitude of gratitude and acceptance, I chose not to hide my gray.

I also see the act of not covering up my gray as an attempt to break the socialized notion that gray hair means old. After all, I wasn’t old at age 14 just because I had gray hair!

Alas, it’s an uphill battle to fight this idea and I often sigh wistfully knowing that I’d gain all the perks of being seen as younger, if I just colored my hair. Perks like not being dismissed as unhip, unsexy, burned out, not with it, etc.

While I do enjoy my silver locks, I occasionally have used henna on the roots. I honestly don’t even know if it made a difference but I guess the act itself made me feel like I was being proactive about my appearance.

This weekend, I woke up with the words ‘were beautiful’ echoing in my head and so I dug in my cupboard for henna.

I found two bottles. One had an expiration of 2020 on it and the other had an expiration of 2022 on it. It occurred to me that this could lead to a color mishap. It also occurred to me that I might tint my hair green like Anne of Green Gables.

These thoughts actually ran through my head and I used the expired henna anyway.

Also, since I was trying to use up all the old henna, I did my whole head and not just my roots.

It wasn’t until my hair was dry that I noticed that my silver hair was now the sickly green shade that happens when blondes get chlorine damage.

I was horrified.

I made things worse!

I ran to the screen door to tell my husband that I was off to the store to get more henna to cover this up!

But even as I turned to leave for the store, I recognized what was motivating me: concerns over what others thought of me. I also recognized this was exactly how I got into this predicament in the first place!

I found myself thinking of Anne. In the story, Anne turns her mirror away, vowing to never look at herself while her hair is still ugly.

In the next moment however, she turns her mirror towards herself again, stating that she’ll face the consequence of her vanity head-on as a sort of penance.

I never left for the store.

I’ll sit with the consequence of my vanity for a bit.

I went to school yesterday with green hair and all day boys and girls inquired about my sickly green tresses. I actually got several compliments too. ‘Mossy’ is the nicest description I’ve heard, given to me by my friend Dominique, who knows comparing me to an ent would improve my outlook on the situation.

When I explained to each of my classes why I haven’t covered up the green, I realized that this is going to serve as a great teachable moment that I’ll be able to reference all year: Can we sit with our mistakes instead of rushing to cover them up as if it never happened? The lesson will sink in deeper if we allow it to.

So often, we rush through discomfort, but hardship often has a message hidden within it.

The accidents and injuries we incur are often telling us to slow down and be here now.

Illness reminds us to rest and restore.

When ordeals come rolling over us, trial after trial, it is often teaching us to practice consistent self-care.

And episodes of embarrassment can often be whispering to have our own back.

But are we hearing these messages and learning the lesson when we rush through the discomfort?

This morning, my daily tarot card reading showed the Five of Pentacles and the message was: Reconnect with your inner worth, detaching it from external circumstances1.

By not rushing out to buy new hair coloring, I’m stepping off the societal hamster wheel that keeps me working to please others.

Instead I am reconnecting with my inner worth -which doesn’t change with my hair color.

The tarot card also offered this advice: Practice self-compassion; understanding that everyone faces periods of uncertainty and challenge.

That’s right. We’re in this together, all wonderfully imperfect and sometimes insecure.

No need to hide it.

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