This is an official announcement that my days of beard dying are done. My brown beard is no more. Period. Sorry for having to put you through my trials and tribulations over it but I had to come to some realizations that only doing it would have brought me to. Thanks to all my friends and ex's and co-workers who tried to convince me to stop, especially the really brutal ones( you know who you are). And special thanks to my boyfriend Alex who "by accident" forgot to pack the bag I gave him with the dye in it inside his suitcase before we left for Europe. After trying to find the French version of Just For Men in Paris which seemed to be impossible( French men lie about not dying their beards) I turned to him and admitted that the search was absurd, the beard is absurd, and I'm absurd for doing it.
"I've been waiting for you to realize this. I love you with a gray beard."
At that moment I decided to take the leap. I grew up a little. It felt great and still does. But don't expect me to act so sensibly about other things. These moments of maturity come rarely, like eclipses.
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