Connect
To Top

Daily Inspiration: Meet Sarah Prewitt

Today we’d like to introduce you to Sarah Prewitt.

Sarah, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
In January 2022, I dyed my hair for the very last time. I had recently turned 40, was at the peak of my career in financial services, and decided to go cold turkey on something I had done for more than 25 years: covering my gray.

What started as a few appointments a year had slowly become every 10 days. I had no idea what was actually underneath all that color—I just knew there was a lot of gray. Gray hair runs in my family; my maternal grandfather was completely gray by 30, and my mother didn’t stop coloring hers until her 60s. But I had never really seen women my age embracing gray. And, more importantly, I had never seen myself that way.

My hair had become my biggest insecurity, something I spent more time and money “fixing” and it started to feel like a battle I was never going to win.

As I was approaching 40, I met a women my age who had gone gray. She was hip and cool and beautiful – I was inspired! So I spent the next year on Instagram, looking at women who had decided to stop coloring their hair. I studied every version of the transition—growing it out, blending the color, going lighter, wearing wigs, even shaving it all off. I was looking for proof that I could do it and still feel beautiful, feminine and confident.

Eventually, I stopped looking for permission and decided to find out for myself.

I started documenting my own journey on Instagram. What began as a personal photo album quickly became something much bigger. Today, @growinggray_ has grown into a global community of women who aren’t just interested in gray hair—they’re interested in what happens when you stop hiding the parts of yourself you’ve been taught to fix.

That has become the heart of my platform: beauty that feels authentic, confidence that isn’t tied to expectation, and the freedom to decide for yourself what beautiful looks like.

And somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t just growing out my gray. I was growing into a version of myself I hadn’t known existed.

I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
It was anything but smooth. In fact, the timing made it much harder than I ever expected.

My last hair dye was three months before I found out we were going back to the office full-time after COVID. I had spent years hiding my gray, and now I was going to see coworkers for the first time in years—at the exact moment my grow-out was at its most awkward.

I hadn’t even gone out socially showing my roots yet. I was relying on hats, turbans and pretty much any hair covering I could find. But I couldn’t walk into a corporate office in a hat and bandana every day. I was going to have to show up as the same confident, capable woman I had always been. The only thing that had changed was my hair color.

I work in wealth management and had been with the same firm since moving to Atlanta in 2010. No one at work knew how often I actually colored my hair. It was never something we talked about—it’s a very male-dominated industry. But behind the scenes, my hair was a carefully managed part of my life.

Every third Thursday, I had a standing appointment with my colorist. I would block my calendar after 5 p.m., race to the salon and spend two hours covering my roots. I never missed an appointment. I scheduled my entire life around it—vacations, important meetings, birthdays, weddings, you name it.

So returning to the office created an enormous amount of anxiety. I remember thinking: Do I walk in and explain to everyone what I’m doing? Do I ignore it and wait for someone to ask? Do I make a joke about what COVID did to me?

Ultimately, I just had to walk in.

And that was one of the biggest lessons of the entire journey: I had to learn that I was still the same woman. Still capable. Still confident. Still me. The only thing that had changed was the color of my hair.

But the truth is, it wasn’t just work that was hard. For the first 365 days, I never felt pretty. Not once.

That was the part nobody could see in the photos I was posting. I was learning to be comfortable with a version of myself I had spent more than half my life trying to hide. And that was much harder than simply growing out my roots.

Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
What started as a personal decision to stop coloring my hair has evolved into something I never could have planned.

Today, I’m the creator behind @growinggray_, a platform and community centered around authentic beauty, confidence and what it means to embrace who you are in every aspect of your life. While gray hair is what brought women to my page, it’s really just the entry point. The bigger conversation is about confidence, style, identity and giving yourself permission. I have connected with women across the globe who have found inspiration from my story.

I’m at a point now where I’m asking bigger questions about what I want my next chapter to look like—how I want to spend my time, what kind of work feels meaningful, who I want to surround myself with, what I want to create and what stories I want to share.

We’d love to hear about how you think about risk taking?
I’ve always been considered “the good girl.” I was the girl who got along with everyone, generally did the right thing, followed the rules and didn’t give anyone much to worry about. And for a long time, I wore that identity pretty comfortably.
I think I spent much of my life doing what I thought I was supposed to do. Go to school. Build a career. Be successful. Be responsible. Show up. Take care of people. And, of course, the minute I saw a silver hair, cover it up. I never really questioned any of it. I just assumed that was what you did. Until one day, I stopped. And it was incredibly freeing.

What surprised me most was that stopping my hair appointments didn’t just change my hair—it made me start questioning what else I was doing simply because I thought I was supposed to.

That was a much bigger risk than letting my gray grow out.

I started looking at my career, my relationships, the way I spent my time and even the expectations I had for myself through a different lens. I began asking a question I hadn’t asked nearly enough before: Do I actually want this, or do I just think I’m supposed to want this?

I still don’t consider myself a reckless risk-taker. I’m thoughtful. I’m calculated. I’ve spent my career in financial services, so I’m probably never going to make a decision without considering the downside. But I’ve learned that there is risk in staying put, too.

Going gray was the first time I consciously chose the uncomfortable option simply because it felt more authentic. And once I experienced how freeing that could be, I couldn’t unsee it.

That’s really what @growinggray_ has become for me. It started with hair, but it was never really about hair. It’s about what happens when you stop asking for permission to be the version of yourself that feels most authentic.

And maybe the biggest risk I’ve taken isn’t going gray at all. It’s finally giving myself permission to stop being the “good girl” and start being the woman I actually want to be.

Contact Info:

Two women with different hairstyles and clothing, one with dark hair and the other with silver hair, in separate settings.

Woman with silver and black hair, wearing a black top, looking to the side with her hand near her neck.

Woman with black and gray hair, wearing a black sleeveless top, in an indoor setting.

Smiling woman with blonde hair in a black blazer, arms crossed, standing outdoors with greenery in background.

Suggest a Story: VoyageATL is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

More in Local Stories