Letting My Hair Go Grey: What Happens When We Stop Editing Ourselves

Sometimes, letting go of one small thing changes the way you see everything.

What started as a simple decision to stop colouring my hair has changed far more than the way I look. As I’ve let my grey come through, I’ve found myself thinking differently about ageing, being seen and the parts of myself I no longer want to hide.

I got dolled up for my friends’ wedding a few weekends ago. I can’t remember the last time I got properly dressed up and put make-up on. It was also the first time I’d really done my hair since embracing my grey locks at the beginning of the year.

These days, I basically live in yoga leggings and my hair is usually half-shoved up. It’s not that I don’t care how I look. I just that I care a little less than I used to.

A few years ago, I wouldn’t have gone to a wedding without touching up my roots. The idea of sitting through an event with visible grey would have felt uncomfortable. I would have noticed it. I would have worried that other people were noticing it too.

Of course I still want to look nice. I enjoy getting dressed and putting make-up on. I like wearing a pretty dress and the feeling of making a bit of an effort.

But I’ve realised that nice doesn’t have to mean young. And that has been a surprisingly big realisation.

The decision was small. The shift was not.

Letting my hair go grey felt like a very simple decision. One day, I stopped colouring it. That’s it.

There was no grand declaration or carefully considered plan. I just reached a point where I didn’t want to keep covering something that was naturally happening to me.

And there’s been another unexpected bonus: my hair is in much better condition.

Since I stopped colouring it, it feels healthier, softer and stronger. I hadn’t really appreciated how much regular colouring was affecting it until I stopped. I’d spent years treating my natural hair as something that needed to be changed, without really considering what it might need if I simply left it alone.

There’s something quite lovely about that realisation too.

The thing I thought needed fixing was actually doing just fine when I stopped interfering with it.

Maybe that’s the bigger lesson: when you stop trying to hide the parts of yourself that are naturally you, something interesting happens. You care less about being seen.

Not because you stop caring about yourself. Quite the opposite. You begin to care more about how you feel than how you might be perceived.

I’ve noticed this in so many different ways this year. The grey hair was just one of them.

It’s made me question how often we edit ourselves without even realising we’re doing it. How much energy goes into looking a certain way, being a certain way, or making sure that the parts of us that don’t fit the ideal are kept out of sight.

And how much freedom might there be in simply deciding that some of those things don’t need fixing after all?

What happens when you stop editing yourself

We have become very good at editing ourselves. We edit our bodies, our faces, our clothes, our voices, our opinions and our emotions. We make ourselves smaller so we take up less space.

We edit the signs of ageing and the parts of ourselves that feel too much, too sensitive, too loud, too quiet, too ambitious, too tired, too…different.

We learn, often without even realising it, what is considered desirable or acceptable and we adjust ourselves accordingly. We smooth. We conceal. We correct. We make ourselves more palatable.

And sometimes these choices are completely harmless and genuinely enjoyable. There is nothing wrong with colouring your hair, wearing make-up, or wanting to change something about your appearance.

For me, the question became less "Should I let my hair go grey?" and more:

"What happens when I stop trying to make myself look like someone I’m not?"

The answer has been: I feel more like myself. Not dramatically. Not every day. But I notice there is less performance. Less checking. Less wondering how I am being perceived. It’s a feeling that I can simply soften into the woman I am.

There is something about being in transition

Perhaps this is why the experience has felt particularly significant this year. Grey hair is, in its own small way, a visible sign of transition. It marks time and it tells a story. It says: I have lived long enough for my body to change. Instead of seeing that change as something to correct, I’m beginning to see it as something to meet.

After all we all in transition - everyone of us. Children are the most visible sign of this as they grow and age in front of our very eyes. Some transitions are obvious. A new job. A relationship ending or beginning. Moving house. Becoming a parent. Losing someone. Changing direction.

Others happen much more quietly. Your body changes. Your priorities change. Your capacity changes.

The things you once tolerated no longer feel tolerable. The version of you who used to fit neatly into your life starts to feel a little… tight. And often, there is a temptation to rush through these periods. To get back to normal. To fix what has changed. To make ourselves feel familiar again.

What if the invitation is not to go backwards to something we were but to become more honest about who we are now?

The cusp of a new season

Perhaps that’s why I love this time of year so much. Late September sits right on the cusp between summer and autumn. The leaves haven't all turned yet. There are still warm days. The evenings are noticeably drawing in. There is a sense that summer is still here, but it is no longer quite the same summer.

The season is changing. There is something beautiful about being reminded that change doesn't have to happen all at once.

Nature doesn't wake up one morning and announce: Right. Autumn starts today.

It happens gradually. A cooler morning. A darker evening. The first leaf turning. The softness of the light changing. One thing becoming another. Maybe own transitions can be like this too.

We don't always need a dramatic reinvention. Sometimes the shift begins with one small choice. To stop dyeing your hair. To say no to something you no longer want. To rest instead of pushing through. To wear the thing you've been saving for a special occasion. My love, today is special! To speak the truth you've been editing. To let yourself be seen in a way that feels more honest.

Small choices can have surprisingly large consequences. Often the thing that changes isn't the outside of your life at all. It's the way you see yourself within it.

Ditching the dye: Getting used to my new locks

Becoming less concerned with being seen

I'm not sure I'll ever completely stop caring what people think of me. I'm human! But letting my hair go grey has shown me that I don't have to organise my life around other people's perceptions of me.

I can get dressed up and still have grey hair. I can want to look beautiful without needing to look younger. I can care about how I present myself without constantly trying to improve or correct myself. And, most importantly, I can let myself be seen as I am.

It feels like taking off a layer (and a weight) I didn't realise I’d been wearing for years.

So as summer begins to loosen its grip and autumn slowly arrives, I'm thinking about the things I'm ready to stop editing. The things I'm ready to let change.

The parts of myself I'm ready to meet with a little less judgement and a little more curiosity.

Growing older isn't about holding on to who we were for as long as possible. It’s about becoming increasingly comfortable with who we’re becoming. Grey hair and all. 🩶