Mike Martin

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It arrived the year I turned 30. My first gray hair, fluttering above my temple like a flag planted by an advancing army. I plucked it, examined it, and let it fall to the carpet. This was no concern of mine. Fresh out of a relationship that had spoken for my 20s, I was busily engaged in all the activities I had longed to do when I was shacked up in the suburbs, making weekend trips to homeware stores: living with friends in fashionable parts of the city, having serious conversations with unserious boys, experimenting with drugs for the first time. I felt young in a way that had so far eluded me and I was not about to let a single gray hair — an interloper, an outlier — spoil my party. I threw on my jacket, ran out the door, and forgot all about it.

Samantha Jones was right. Six more grays (and the rest) came to that first gray’s funeral. At a festival a few summers later and crushing on a boy in the next tent along, I presented a friend with my scalp and a pair of tweezers and told her to go to town. But for the most part, I remained unperturbed, content to let nature do its thing. The partying subsided, as it does, and I settled back into adulthood, accumulating the markers of a thirtysomething life — a mortgage, a dog, a baby — and the fine lines and wrinkles that come with them. These unmistakable signs of aging bothered me even less than the grays and I congratulated myself on my composure in the face of getting older.

Then at the end of last year, something changed.

Have you noticed that a lot of people who embrace gray hair at a comparatively young age tend to fit a rigid mould? The look is deliberate — a chic stripe or an all-over dye job — and the effect sleek and statement-making, unencumbered by suggestions of age.

On a bright December morning, my boyfriend and I bundled our daughter and our dog into the car and drove out to the country for a walk. It was one of those rare winter days that make you feel glad to be alive and I pulled out my phone to capture the memory. In bed that evening, my boyfriend asleep beside me, I looked at the pictures. All I could see were my grays, glittering in the sunshine. I tried to refocus my attention — on the joy on my little girl’s face, on the landscape bathed in light — but I was horrified. I looked like I had been attacked with a can of silly string. A wave of adjectives crashed over me, none of them complimentary. Straggly. Wiry. Witchy. Mad. The image of myself that I had carried for years disappeared in an instant and I lay awake into the small hours, wondering when I had grown old.

What is it about gray hair that provokes such anxiety, still, about getting older? Every now and again, a woman will pop her head above the parapet and declare herself a champion of aging gracefully. Problematic euphemism notwithstanding, have you noticed that a lot of people who embrace gray hair at a comparatively young age tend to fit a rather rigid mold? As with so many beauty movements, there is a popular look and a particular lingo. The look is deliberate — a chic stripe or an all-over dye job — and the effect sleek and statement-making, unencumbered by suggestions of age. It is as bold a choice as pink or green and equally high maintenance; the reason you do not see women like me championing gray hair is because it requires investment.

We may not like to admit it but silver privilege exists. Going gray in public before retirement age is acceptable so long as the hair is well groomed and intentional.

Going gray in public before retirement age is acceptable so long as the hair is well-groomed and intentional. We may not like to admit it but silver privilege exists and the unfortunate truth is that if you do not have the money for regular salon visits or the time for conditioning treatments and a blowdry every morning — and many of us do not — then you’re probably better off grabbing a box of Nice’n Easy and concealing the evidence.

I wish I had the fortitude to persevere through this stringy, straggly, in-between stage; to sit in the pub without comparing myself unfavorably to every young woman who walks through the door; to stop worrying about being the old mom at baby group. Feminism is all but a dirty word these days yet I still consider myself — would describe myself if asked — as a feminist, and this new preoccupation with the way I look feels like a betrayal of my worldview.

I have always thought of myself as only marginally interested in my appearance — I rarely wear makeup, I have never had a professional manicure and if I am ever on trend, it is most likely by accident. In truth, this is the product of a vicious circle of laziness and lack of ability but somewhere at the back of my mind, there lingers the suspicion that I am a better feminist for never having learned to apply lipstick. That I am morally superior because I do not know how to contour, or what a cut crease is. This is stupid and wrong, not to mention inconsistent — I wax my bikini line every five weeks without fail — and I am ashamed to admit it.

I am beginning to wonder, too, whether I have never bothered with my looks because I have never really felt like I had to. Pretty privilege is a recognized phenomenon that bestows extra advantages on people who are considered attractive according to a very narrow, extremely outdated standard that prioritizes Eurocentric features and is filtered through the male gaze. By no means do I think of myself as pretty — and it is definitely an awkward choice of word for someone approaching their 40th birthday — but when I look at photos of myself from as little as five years ago, I see clear skin that needs no coverage, eyes that are plenty wide enough without mascara, a lower lip wearing nothing but Carmex. I am no beauty but have I been dishonest with myself in failing to recognize this indifference towards my appearance as a privilege afforded to me by, shall we say, inoffensive features? And where does that leave me now that my hair is graying, lines are appearing on my forehead and my lower lip isn’t as full as it used to be?

There is a voice in my head, still, that says I am letting the sisterhood — and my daughter — down by capitulating to a system that calculates a woman’s worth on the basis of her perceived youth and beauty. But I realise now that this attitude is a hangover from a prescriptive brand of feminism that stopped being relevant a long time ago.

In the salon chair, it turns out, watching a stylist paint my hair for the first time in my life. (I would have grabbed the aforementioned box of Nice’n Easy but I have heard too many DIY horror stories to trust my inexperienced hands with a task as delicate as repairing my self-esteem. At 16, a clumsy dye job is no big deal; at 39, it can make a distressing situation worse.) I would love to tell you that I had a moment of madness and requested balayage or a zeitgeisty shade like mocha mousse but true to form, I asked the stylist to match my natural color as closely as possible and emerged from the salon a couple of hours later looking much the same as when I arrived.

I feel different, though. If nothing else, it is a relief to stand in front of the bathroom mirror without fixating on the grays writhing across my scalp. I do not think I look younger but that was never really my goal. Getting older is a privilege and women should be permitted to own their advancing years without fearing the consequences, like the 36% of women over 50 who, according to a new report, say they have been discriminated against.

There is a voice in my head, still, that says I am letting the sisterhood — and my daughter — down by capitulating to a system that calculates a woman’s worth on the basis of her perceived youth and beauty. But I realize now that this attitude is a hangover from a prescriptive brand of feminism that stopped being relevant a long time ago. Perhaps, then, by dyeing my hair I have done something truly radical. I have owned up to the errors in my way of thinking — which only gets harder the deeper one digs into adulthood — and how do we begin to address the flaws in a system if not by addressing the flaws in ourselves first?

This story was originally published on Refinery29 UK.

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Welcome to Money Diaries where we are tackling the ever-present taboo that is money. We’re asking real people how they spend their hard-earned money during a seven-day period — and we’re tracking every last dollar.

Today: a finance director who has a $335,000 household income and who spends some of her money this week on an impulse purchase of a dash cam that she will hopefully never need to use in an insurance claim. 

If you’d like to submit your own Money Diary, you can do so via our online form. We pay $150 for each published diary. Apologies but we’re not able to reply to every email.

Editor’s Note: All amounts appears in Canadian dollars. 

Occupation: Finance director
Industry: Financial services
Age: 40
Location: Toronto, Canada
Salary: $105,000
Household Income/Finances Setup: I live with our two children (A. and Z.) and my husband, S., who makes twice what I earn. All our accounts, assets, and debts are joint (we combined finances a few months after marriage), with the exception of retirement accounts and pension accounts. Our joint income is $302,000 base and $335,000 total compensation.
Assets: Primary home $1,300,000; investment property $405,000; vehicles: $32,000; RRSP: $70,250; investment accounts: $26,352; savings account $75,000; checking accounts: $68,530.
Debt: $380,554 (HELOC on investment property).
Paycheck Amount (2x/month, 26 pay periods in a year): $2,677.43
Pronouns: She/her

Monthly Expenses

Housing Costs: $0 — our primary residence mortgage was paid off more than a decade ago.
Loan Payments: $1831.15 HELOC for investment property.
Utilities: $278.56
Netflix: $18.63
Peloton App: $30
SportsNet App: $24.99
Insurance: $437.50 (home and auto).
Cell Phone: $0 — Our cell plans are covered by our companies.
Disney Plus: $9
Wifi/TV: $90 for bundled service.
Healthcare: $63.22 (pre-tax; includes dental, medical prescriptions, and vision) deducted on my biweekly paycheck.
RRSP Savings Account: $150.54 deducted on my biweekly paycheck, with employer match.
Property Tax: $594.29
Taxes: $0, I usually draft our taxes prior to the RRSP deadline and contribute the amount (with a small buffer) necessary to ensure we have no taxes owing.
Bank Fees: $0, we maintain account balances to waive all fees.
Charity Donations: ~$20

Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
Yes, as second generation immigrants, the expectation was that all children would obtain a bachelor’s degree at minimum and only from the top schools in the country. The provincial government makes it very easy to obtain educational loans (almost everyone wanting to pursue higher education is approved) and interest does not start calculating until six months after graduation. I lived close to campus and was able to live at home for free and save any earnings I made. I worked throughout the school year and full-time hours during the summer months. My annual tuition was fairly low (average is $6,000 based on program) and I was able to earn enough to pay for all school related costs throughout the year and made a lump sum loan payment on graduation date, thereby paying $0 in interest. If I could do it again, I would have invested the savings and made the lump sum payment just before the six-month grace period ended, but the feeling of being debt free felt as good as the graduation.

Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent(s)/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
Unfortunately, all my early financial education was taught through stress and financial instability. As the eldest daughter, I was part of lots of stressful money conversations and I often loaned my parents money for emergencies. There was no talk of repayment and the understanding was that my money was family money. I was also responsible for buying extra things for my siblings (the expectation was that, as the eldest, I would pay for everything during social activities and shopping, extra fun stuff, etc). I became very aware of the cost of things and translated prices into how many working hours would be required to purchase an item. As a result, I became extremely frugal when I was very young and those habits have not changed, despite my financial position. There was absolutely no education regarding savings or investments and everything I learnt was through curiosity of what wealthy people did with their money. My first exposure to investments and passive income was through firm partners at my first job.

What was your first job and why did you get it?
My first job was working in a lawyer’s office as an admin assistant during high school summer break. I had no prior work experience and I was paid $125 a week. It was under the table and below minimum wage but I was able to use the experience I gained in applying to admin positions during my college days that paid higher than minimum wage. While I was in school I tried to work as many hours as possible (sometimes to the detriment of my grades) but I was very focused on graduating debt free.

Did you worry about money growing up?
Yes; I was worried about having money for my own expenses, I was worried about family expenses. My parents sometimes used me as an outlet for their fears about money and I would physically feel the weight of their bad financial decisions.

Do you worry about money now?
Yes, it is a constant worry I plan for. My childhood fear of not having enough money pushes me to maximize every possible dollar, which leads to routine burnout. I don’t know how to extinguish the ghost of money scarcity; at the same time I try to give my kids the best life experiences that money can buy. I am also alarmed by the rapid inflation on food costs and housing which feeds into my scarcity mindset. I rarely go grocery shopping now because I can’t help but compare the prices to pre-pandemic levels and sometimes forgo list items based on principle.

At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
I didn’t become financially independent until I got married and moved out at 25. While living at home I didn’t pay for groceries/rent/insurance or utilities on a regular basis, and my money was for whatever extra expenses I had. I never asked my parents for money for extras (unless they were related to school before I started working) so I would mostly save my birthday money and gifts until I really wanted to use them. Once I got married and moved out, S. became my safety net and remains my best financial partner. If we needed extra assistance, we would have to apply to private financial institutions for loans. Neither of us have family that are in better financial positions than we are and we would never want to be in debt to family.

Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income? If yes, please explain.
The only money we have ever received from family was in gifts during our wedding (and we didn’t receive any financial assistance for wedding costs). Neither S. or I expect to receive any inheritance and are worried about how our parents will navigate retirement. I’ve become very interested in generational wealth and am determined to give our kids a stepping stone to secure their financial future.

Day One: Monday
7 a.m. — I have to work in the office two days a week, so I quickly start my morning skincare (The Ordinary salicylic acid, niacinamide, and sunscreen). I briefly wonder if the few tears that eek out of my eyes is diluting my Biossance eye cream. I do a quick swipe of foundation, concealer, mascara, and blush and begrudgingly pull on pants that zip. I start my one-hour commute of driving and public transportation (I pay $3.35 a one-way fare, which includes the subway. Parking at the subway stations is free and I drive to the subway station and take a subway downtown and walk to my building). $3.35

9:05 a.m. — I grab tea and an apple from the office kitchen. I spend the day socializing for the most part, as part of my managerial duties, and ignore the lost productive hours. I know myself (and others) are more social in the office than we were before the pandemic, but it feels like just coming in straight to your desk and working for eight hours is almost rude now. I have yet to hear one valid argument (increased profits or productivity) for RTO, but I fear the golden days of remote work are disappearing.

12:05 p.m. — I grab lunch with colleagues and order gnocchi topped with a creamy bolognaise. The food court is full and there is a bit of a wait to grab a table. $12.35

1:05 p.m. — I prepare some costing reports and hope it doesn’t snow on the way home.

5 p.m. — I spend the hour commuting back crushed in rush hour and despising the executive who ordered us to return to office. $3.35

6 p.m. — S. whips up pasta with meat sauce (it’s hot and homey) before jumping into the car to practice. Both of our kids (A. and Z.) are in competitive sports and that means most evenings we are out at practice in various rinks across the city. It’s probably the most expensive thing we’ve bought for our kids, but it’s a childhood experience that will hopefully teach them resilience, coping with failure, and a strong work ethic. After a couple of hours in a cold rink, A. and I return to an empty house and she makes and shares a quick snack of nachos.

9 p.m. — I finish up a couple of work items before I get ready for bed with my nighttime routine and sink into my soft, warm bed.

Daily Total: $19.05

Day Two: Tuesday
8 a.m. — I wake up and take a moment to appreciate working from home in my comfortable PJs. I start with phone calls to try to beat wait times and work through classic ’90s hold music with a snack of walnuts and cranberries and green tea. I finally reach actual people and am able to clear several stopgaps. I make a quick egg scramble with tomatoes and cheese and eat it with some wholewheat toast.

12:30 p.m. — I take a break to do a quick 30-minute pop ride with Cody using the Peloton app. I’m usually too busy to spare the one hour-plus of working out, showering and getting ready, but I usually feel energized for the rest of the day. My New Year’s resolution is to try to get in three workouts in a week, so I consider this light prep work.

3 p.m. — I make creamy lemon pasta with lemon-pepper pan-fried chicken for dinner. I don’t have time to make a salad so I quickly steam some broccoli.

5 p.m. — Before we head out the door, I take out gingerbread dough from the freezer to thaw. While Z. is at practice, I run some quick errands to the bank, grabbing gift cards for teachers’ gifts and getting candy for gingerbread decorating from the bulk store. I use an online coupon at the bulk store and the cashier gives me an additional coupon for my next visit. $265.47

8:30 p.m. — When we return home, Z. and I bake and decorate gingerbread men for his team and package them in clear gift bags with ribbon. We save a couple of extra for S. and A. and they are all demolished within five minutes of them arriving home. The kids help clean up the kitchen and spend some gaming with friends before bed.

10:15 p.m. — S. and I watch an episode of The Perfect Couple and catch up with each other (the series is not super exciting). We’re eagerly awaiting the new season of The White Lotus, which will require zero talking. I finish up my nighttime routine and switch in a light retinal after double cleansing.

Daily Total: $265.47

Day Three: Wednesday
7 a.m. — I wake up early to darkness and quickly go through my morning makeup routine. I pack myself some snacks to get through the day and jump into morning traffic. $3.35

12 p.m. — I grab lunch with colleagues and order a red panang curry from a Thai restaurant chain. I intend to save some for dinner but the warm spicy broth is soul-warming and I polish off the bowl. $12.30

5 p.m. After a few meetings, I head back home in the rush hour crush. $3.35

6 p.m. — S. makes boxed macaroni and fried shrimp and we all run off to practice. I take a few minutes to pack myself a snack and make tea to take with me. I make a chai tea with cardamom pods and cinnamon and it’s hot and delicious with some Biscoff biscuits. Z. has a great game and we drive home singing along to pop hits and some meme songs.

10:30 p.m. — I quickly clean up the kitchen and get ready for bed. I use a retinal instead of my usual peptides since I’ll be working from home tomorrow and can let my skin breathe.

Daily Total: $19

Day Four: Thursday
8 a.m. — I wake up and enjoy the three-minute commute to my home office. I spend an hour going through a month-end process with a more junior staff member. She’s very smart but inexperienced and I try to mentor her through some of the closing workflows so she can add those to her toolbox (and résumé). She has a list of things she wants to learn, so I usually let her know when I am going to start a process and she can decide if she wants to join or if she’s not ready yet.

12 p.m. — I run out to Costco during my lunch break and enjoy the relatively empty parking lot and store. I can’t resist the deals and pick up some things for the house and splurge on a new knife set. We’ve got a party coming up, so I peruse all the bakery items for hosting (aka snacking on until people come over and snack with me) and pick up a few crowd favourites. I spy a couple of new snack items I want to try but I’m always scared that people won’t like them and I then will be stuck with 10 sleeves of unopened crackers. There are a couple of sample tables and I happily snack on them while grabbing toothpaste and making a mental note to figure out what supplements I should be taking. $453.63

1 p.m. — S. unpacks the groceries (plenty of desserts, chicken, eggs, milk, humus, chips, tomatoes, salad, snap peas, cereal, maple syrup, yogurt, fries, pop, and frozen dumplings) while I prep dinner — roast chicken in a souvlaki marinade, roast potatoes, rice, and steamed snap peas.

3:30 p.m. — The kids come home from school and after quickly eating we jump in our respective cars to practice. I take some of the desserts (a lemon sponge cake and some baklava) with me and munch on them while watching practice. I text with some friends trying to make plans over break. We try to schedule a girls dinner or at the very least a playdate with the kids. Everyone’s busy with family and activities so it’s hard to find an open slot.

9:45 p.m. — I do an early nighttime routine of The Ordinary buffet and eye serum, and I apply COSRX snail eye patches while rewatching an episode of Insecure before going to bed.

Daily Total: $453.63

Day Five: Friday
8 a.m. — I have a steady morning of variance analysis and stop to address my rumbling tummy. I make a Western omelet with baguette for breakfast with a cup of green tea. I have a frustrating meeting with the director of sales where I clarify the meaning of deferred revenue and confirm that lack of accounting knowledge doesn’t excuse you from committing accounting fraud. I haphazardly browse through open job postings while I file my notes and confirm the market is dreary at best. I find a couple of US-based roles in my feed and cry in Canadian at the pay gap.

12:15 p.m. — I melt a slice of brie on a baguette and eat it with an apple while finalizing a budget template. There are a few assumptions I need to check so I formulate a key that will allow me to easily update it with updated numbers.

1:30 p.m. — I get busy with reports and listen to some podcast episodes of I Will Teach You to be Rich in the background. Sometimes I will relisten to episodes that I relate myself or S. to and try to really appreciate and learn from the host’s insights. I think communication around finances is important so I try to be conscious of the family financial values that we are creating and teaching our kids.

3:05 p.m. — I make a quick pesto pasta with pan-fried chicken, cherry tomatoes, baby spinach, and goat cheese for dinner. We all quickly eat and head out to practice. I make a hot coffee to go but have no free hands to take it into the rink. I forget about it in the car until we head home after practice and I find it’s still pretty hot after three hours in sub-zero temperatures. I’m impressed with the generic insulated cup, but only drink half so I don’t stay up all night.

8:30 p.m. — On the way home, I notice gas prices have slightly dropped. I fill the tank ($79.47) and swipe my loyalty rewards card and use a cashback credit card. A. is hungry on the way home and we decide to stop and get some doughnut puffs ($20.28). We get free samples and choose a box of salted caramel and dulce de leche. $99.75

9 p.m. — I feel a little behind so I plug into some year-end reporting while watching real housewives in the background. After a couple of hours and several Lindt chocolates later, I decide to log off and go to bed, only cleaning my face with cleanser.

Daily Total: $99.75

Day Six: Saturday
9 a.m. — Everyone is up. After a quick breakfast of cereal and waffles, we’re off to the rinks. While driving through steady traffic, an errant minivan cuts in front of myself and three other cars to cross four lanes of traffic at a high speed, causing me to let out a string of expletives. Once we get the rink and set up, I browse some dash cams on Amazon and purchase one with good reviews. $192.09

12:30 p.m. — Z. has a game in the afternoon so A. and I drive over to the game rink after her practice. Traffic is surprisingly light and since we gained an extra half hour we decide to stop for a snack. We run into Costco and head straight to the food court to grab a poutine. We weave back out through the crowds and enjoy the steaming hot curds and gravy before the game. $13.98

4 p.m. — S. and I do an informal financial update and decide to max out the kids’ RESPs (Registered Education Savings Plans) for the year. We’ll do a more formal catchup with the iPad in the coming weeks with draft taxes and decide how much of a lump sum to contribute to our RSPs (registered savings plans for retirement) based on tax burden strategy. S. does the laundry with the kids while I clean up the kitchen.

5 p.m. — S and I make a couple of pizzas together for dinner (using pre-made dough) and I throw together a loaf of banana bread, since the oven is already pre-heated.

6 p.m. — S. and A. head out to her game after dinner. Z. settles into some homework and I do some life admin while in front of Real Housewives.

7:30 p.m. — Next week will be busier than usual so I throw together a lasagne using ricotta cheese, broccoli, and ground lamb. I freeze most of the pan for a quick weeknight thaw and leave a little for S. to eat when they come back home.

10 p.m. — I get ready with my usual nighttime routine and watch an episode of Somebody Feed Phil on Netflix to cleanse my brain.

Daily Total: $206.07

Day Seven: Sunday
9 a.m. — Everyone is up. I make a quick batch of French toast and pack some to snack on in the rink. I browse online for clothes and makeup but exit before I check out the carts.

12 p.m. — After a long practice, A. and I return home. S. has finished most of the laundry and everyone folds and puts away their own piles. No one is too hungry for lunch so everyone picks at leftovers. S. makes me a Greek salad to eat with leftover pizza.

1 p.m. — S. and Z. head out for practice, A. plays some Minecraft, and I finish up an expense report that I’ve been procrastinating on.

6 p.m. — Everyone has a free evening so we decide to go out for dinner. We choose a Hakka Chinese favorite (we are spoiled for choice and have multiple restaurant options within a 10km radius) and enjoy our usual favourites: Manchurian chicken, Hakka noodles, chicken pakoras, chilli beef, cashew nut chicken and fried rice. We order a gulab jamun cheesecake and chai crème brûlée to share, and they are both incredible. We pack up all the leftover food and head home happy and full. $96.43

8:30 p.m. — We all watch a couple of episodes of Cobra Kai together and head to bed.

Daily Total: $96.43

The Breakdown

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