By the time I decide to grow a full beard, the hair on my head will most likely be totally white.
Believe it or not, I am still on my clean shaven journey. This is actually stubble.
The cool part of going “clean shaven” is giving leeway for a little growth and still style with various looks without major work and clean up. I do miss Sasquatch sometimes. But I also like the smooth baby's butt look as well.
Speaking of change, I’ve come to the conclusion: I’m going through Manopause. Not menopause. Manopause.
Bitch! I’m changing!
My hair’s turning white. My beard is turning white. I’m having delayed orgasms. When I do cum, the flow isn’t as heavy nor does it have that oomph like it did, hell, a month ago. It’s getting a little harder to hold my pee. I mean I am running with one second to spare.
But I’m still enjoying my fifties.
Laugh if you wish. But the hardest part for me is not my bladder emergencies. It’s not the change in my orgasms. It’s not the fact that anon sex just won’t hit the same anymore for me. ( I know I’m a hardcore demisexual. Always have been and even more as I get older.)
It’s this gray hair.
Yep.
This gray hair is fucking with me.
Like those white dudes who are balding. They will take their last strand of hair and wrap it around their entire head to save the illusion.
My situation may seem a little less extreme as all I really need to do is dye it. But Fuck! I know the truth! I don't know what is worse: Covering up the aging process, knowing the fraudulence or witnessing the deterioration of what's left of youth that is pretty much on the end of its life support.
I'm not quite ready to pull the plug yet. There are some natural remedies I am going to try. Ahh fuck it! I'm turning gray bitch! It's just going to happen.
My mother came over yesterday and was like,"Boy! (No matter how old I get, I will always be 'boy' to her.) Those
gray hairs are showing!"
"Thanks Mom!" I say sarcastically.
"How old are you now? 54?"
"Yes, Mom." rolling my eyes with all the energy left in my slowly decaying body.
"Yeah. You are definitely getting up there!"
"Again. Thank you!"
As if she didn't get the hint the first time.
The unique thing is getting older doesn't really freak me out. White hair? Well, that is another subject.
This is so relatable on many levels. That gray just seems to be the daily reminder that we are losing that fleeting grasp of our youth. True, there's always the option to dye but so often the men that do make the mistake of taking the color back to when they were 20. Fooling no one except themselves and looking like a fool in the process. I have resigned myself to this inevitable reality. I'm biased, but maybe someone actually likes that mature gray look. Accepting yourself and refusing to let the changes we experience as we age become a focal point in your life is certainly a lot less stressful. Even though we might not recognize that person looking back at us in the mirror. Conversely, I may not care for it for myself, but it doesn't bother me in the least on someone else. If that makes any sense at all. I actually find it kind of distinguished
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