I sat in the salon chair, face mask in place, and looked in the mirror. My first haircut in over three months and the gray stripe of my one-inch roots glared against the thicket of my limp brown curls. Not quite the bride of Frankenstein, but close enough for discomfort.

“I’m embracing the gray,” I told Seth, my stylist. I felt a twinge of apprehension.

“Many women are making the choice to go gray now,” he said, reassuring me. Every time I’ve mentioned my plan to my friends and family, I’ve felt bold, defiant, followed by, seriously, what the hell am I thinking?