Today, my hair is brown. Yesterday it was a rusty-orange-red-pinkish color that made my eyes bleed. After making the trek through the rows of things I don't need but will probably buy at Walmart, and after spending a good half hour staring at all of my possible options in the boxed hair dye aisle, and after finally choosing a light brown shade and making my way to the register before changing my mind, I came to the realization that my hair is my punching bag.
In all of the most dissatisfied times in my life my hair color changes most frequently.
I've been every color imaginable. I'm sure my sister could show you pictures when I had "June" lipstick (you won't get that) and seriously YELLOW hair. Like Barbie. I've been browns, blondes, oranges, fire engine reds, black, combinations of all of those, ashy, golden, and mousy shades of all of the above. My hair has at one point been the consistency of a stretchy cotton ball.
My hair has taken the heat...
Its all because... when I feel trapped, or unable to change my present life situation, I change my hair. When I want to shut the door on relationships, but feel I can't. When I want to never show up for work again, but know I can't. When I want to move to Mexico, just for a month or two, but am fully aware that I can't. I know i CAN change the color of my hair. And I will. And I do. I can be a different person tomorrow, than I am today, just from the color of my hair.
no matter the color or consistency of your hair, it ALWAYS looks good. i understand the need for change. i generally ache for it. but i never do anything about it. i really never hope you want to be a different person.
ReplyDeleteyou're one of the best people i know, sister.