But you’ll look Old!!! If you look old I’ll look old – said my friends who for my 40th birthday took me to have my hair colored; and I liked it. I tossed my hair back and forth and thought Yes, I look good! buuuttt. I knew! I kneeeww, I knew at the time that I was not the kind of girl who could have a long term relationship with hair color.
It just wasn’t going to work. I knew ours was not a true, lasting love, but merely a vain fling. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I loved it at first; the delusion of youth, the excitement of a monthly adventure. But it didn’t take long, soon the dread slipped in. My color and I grew farther and farther apart. I no longer longed for the adventure, but dreaded it. Sometimes I put it off 6 weeks or more, but then the tell-tale sign was there; the streak of shame, that silver line that showed like a hickey in our relationship. It showed like a reverse hickey, not a sign of togetherness, but of separateness. And I had to color.
I drug myself embarrassed, vanity struck, and unhappily back to the bottle of color for another fling; dreaded intimacy. The results no longer excited me. They were flat, plain, and foreign, like I had dressed myself in another woman’s clothes. Sigh, it wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t true to myself and I knew it.
Then I decided to do it! Make the break. I was after all changing my lifestyle so that I would be healthier. Going natural and organic and making my home and house healthier. How could I continue in this relationship? I was becoming crunchy; a granola, it didn’t’ fit! I could make this change too, I decided! ”Well…there is always Aveda” I thought- “it’s more natural!!” But NO! It had to go! We had to part ways. I couldn’t stand the suspense each month; the not knowing how it would turn out, the damage to my fine soft hair. It was an unhealthy relationship. We had to break up.
So, I did it. Cold turkey. We broke up. I didn’t even tell it, it had been nice. I just walked away.
It took so long to get over the relationship; more than a year. As my hair grew out it changed weird colors, fading into a gross kind of green color at the ends; a constant reminder of our relationship. The ends were fried and gross, but I stood firm. I was not going to be bullied into coming back! We were over.
One day I noticed how soft my hair was becoming, how healthy and yes! How it sparkled in the sun with streaks of silver. Shwiinggg! Young 20 something guys started telling me “hey, your hair is cool-duuude”. Much to my confusion and said slowly without emotion. I’m a little bit worried about our 20 something’s, but I digress. Then one day one of them proclaimed! “It’s like superheroes are real!-dduuuuude” Ah, I got it. The silver streaks were like those of the women in the comic books. I could live with that.
The day came when it was time to tackle those ends. I chopped it all off in what I hoped would be a sassy pixie cut. Finally. It was gone! Nothing but pure virgin hair! Sassy, silver hair! How sweet it is! It seems you can go back!
I am now into the second year of liberty from my relationship with hair color. My hair has continued to soften and I no longer look like Rogue from Marvel comics. I must admit that I do miss the occasional “duuudde”, but I’m happy. I will always remember our relationship, but I cherish the future. One of change and growth as a natural woman, one who will not look “old” because of hair color, but will be young because of who I am! Liberated from my relationship with hair color!
For those whose path is not the natural hair path, there is no judgement.