I keep finding grey hairs

And it brings me joy

Hello! I hope you have had a great week. I’m back with another edition of Wavy Thoughts. I have written 22 editions since October, all in my spare time away from my full time job.

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Here’s my latest offering. I hope you enjoy.

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As the wise poet Self Esteem once sang:

‘Look up, lean back
Be strong, you didn’t think you’d live this long.’

She’s right, I don’t think I ever conceptualised that I would actually reach this age. Not just because, well, the whole trauma of being neurodivergent in a neurotypical world thing, but because I could never envision myself growing old.

I remember being in infant school and looking at the year six kids and thinking ‘Wow, I cannot wait to be older.’

What I have never said is ‘I cannot wait to be old.’

Until now, when I am, as any infant will tell you, an old person (32 and a half).

I can hear you now, ‘Ren, 32 is not old you absolute dingbat.’ But how do I know I’m old? Well, as the title says, I keep finding grey hairs in my artificially ginger barnet. One day I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and thought, that’s weird, why is one hair really catching the light?

Nope. Just grey hair. I squinted at the strand of hair and immediately went through the full gamut of existential crisis thinking.

Grey hairs and I have never published a book…

Grey hairs and I have never learned how to swim…

Grey hairs and I can’t cook anything more complex than green pesto pasta…

I won’t lie, I had a slight wobble about the grey hair and its implications. Was life now over? Well, no clearly it wasn’t, because I’m still here. The grey hairs show I am still here, and they show I have lived.

I am experiencing the privilege of getting older and older, touch wood. Every day I get to enjoy something new that proves I am getting older:

• Noticing trees and birds and other bits of magic and wonderment that nature provides for us, because as I get older I’m starting to truly open my eyes to the world around me.

• Jokingly trying on knee pads when I’m gardening and realising that this is actually seventh heaven, why does anyone knock this?

• Willingly listening to podcasts of shows that were broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and finding them interesting.

I’m old! I’m getting older! I’m brilliant at trivia quizzes because I’ve been alive and lived through a plethora of sublime highs and bizarre shit that demonstrates how humans are ridiculous creatures in every respect (the following list is really British, apologies to my American compadres):

I have lived through Labour’s 1997 landslide, Cilla Black outing that journalist on Blind Date, the Good Friday Agreement, SMTV Live, September 11th, Blue Peter presenters apologising for rigging competitions, the Iraq war, Amy Winehouse saying she’d rather have ‘cat aids’ than sing with Katie Melua, the 2008 recession, the Coronation Street tram crash, Brexit, the existence of Gemma Collins, the pandemic, the ‘what a sad little life Jane’ man on Come Dine with Me, the war in Ukraine, Angie Bowie whispering ‘David’s dead’ and the rise of fascism.

What a wild ride. If you told that to an alien they would ask about what you have been smoking.

Away from the peaks and troughs of current affairs and pop culture of the last thirty years, I’ve also been alive long enough to learn about what love and empathy both really mean. I have experienced the crushing grief of losing a parent, and the immense joy of finding a life partner and setting up a life together.

I’ve been alive for it all, for better and for worse. What a wonder. How grateful I am to be here still and to live through crazy times and feel the emotions that life can bring out in a person.

There was a time, and there still are times, where I find myself gripped by something other than myself, that brings me down into the gutter and tells me that I’d rather not be here, I’d rather be elsewhere, or nowhere at all. It’s very real and very frightening. And it’s things like my grey hairs that are the small reminders that I am still here. Needed. Loved. Creaky knees and all.

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A bit different from me this week, I hope you enjoyed.

Wavy Thoughts is a newsletter which celebrates neurodivergent people through the lens of my own life. If you’d like to hear more from me, please subscribe.

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My ambition this year is to write a short book about an aspect of being autistic, such as masking. I’m wondering if that’s something my subscribers could be interested in, and I’ve set up a poll in case you’d like to let me know.

Until next time,

Ren