In order to avoid looking like the mass of women undoubtedly heading out on Monday dressed as the newest version of Harley Quinn, I’ve made the effort and taken the steps to rid my locks of the rest of the fuchsia/pink/hot mess that was left. While I usually have the opposite problem as most people (my colour fades doesn’t fade….even when I want it to) pink always bleaches out pretty easy at least compared to say…green or blue.
The problem is I wasn’t ready to figure out what to do next and now I’m left with this bleached blank canvas of hair…
Just like the plain pumpkin we picked up for the kids to carve, I have no idea what’s the plan here. Everyone has a lot of ideas, but deciding on one and committing to it isn’t easy. The only thing I do know is, it’s not staying the way it is.
This is probably the closest I’ve been in a long time to considering keeping it close to it’s natural colour. Not because being blonde is more fun and I need more of that in my life lately, but because it just seems easier. Both mentally and physically.
Anyone who’s had bright or vibrant hair knows that it takes a little more effort and care to keep it that way than the plainer hues. To be honest though, in my case at least….that means spending less time on hair care daily instead of more. It’s just a hell-of-a-lot of effort initially.
Honestly it’s more to do with the mental fuckery that has gone along with having a more alternative look and just being done with the judgement. I can’t help but worry that my choice of personal style is impacting certain parts of adulting that would otherwise be easier or at least a little less stressful if I chose to blonde or brunette it up.
While my kids and their friends absolutely love the vibrant options available, it’s easy to see that teachers, other parents and grown ups around our conservative town aren’t so happy with my choice. Either that or they downright assume I’m an older sister or younger-ish aunt… I guess you could assume that’s a compliment, but it’s really not when I’ve worked as hard as I have to be a kick ass parent. Young or not, bright hair or not. Judgement….not cool. I can’t help but think, that shit would stop if I looked more like the rest of the parents. Though that in itself isn’t enough to make me want to switch it up….
Really the different treatment by medical professionals is my main concern. I can’t help but worry that my particular look is enough to cause concern or even neglect from not so accepting hospital or clinic staff. Could my colonoscopy experience been different had I been one of the other women going in with normal hair, no piercing holes or tattoos? Maybe…. I sure as shit would have gotten less stares that’s for sure.
Is this just one more area that my illness can effect life, in a not so expected way?
HA…. I don’t think so! I learned from last years auburn experiment that looked absolutely odd. Normal is weird for me, even my friends and family (apart from my dear Omi who makes the cutest little fuss every time it changes) agree.
Still, what’s a girl to do. Blank canvas and no motivation. Ugh…