Bad Hair Days
I’ve decided to dedicate my column this week to my hair. Granted, if you’re reading this issue in print you probably can’t discern the fact that my hair is half blonde but for the sake of this column, I’m telling you now: the front half of my hair is blonde.
For a while now I have let people believe that my choice to have two-toned hair was completely stylistic but in actuality it was amidst a very perplexing and emotional time over the summer and my immediate course of action in dealing with my emotional instability was to take it out on my hair. It was probably the most impulsive and out of character decision I’ve ever made.
It didn’t take but a couple of weeks after where I was genuinely upset about my decision and regretted booking that appointment altogether. It was a lot of asking myself: “What the fuck is my problem?” and “Why the fuck did I do that?” Perhaps, in another time and in another circumstance, I would’ve considered dying my hair half blonde but the fact that I did it out of frustration, confusion, and depression wasn’t exactly ideal.
On top of that, I don’t necessarily feel like I have the confidence to have this hairstyle. Mostly because I am someone who, for some reason, cares about what other people think about me. And from a professional standpoint, I sometimes feel my hair isn’t suitable for the work environment (which is stupid in and in of itself because appearance does not determine anyone’s capability to perform their job, but because that point of view is heavily ingrained into society, I think all the time about what my employers and coworkers might think of my hair).
Anyway, not to be tangential but I’m very indifferent toward my hair. I don’t hate it, but I don’t love it either. I can say however, it has been very restorative to me—a healing process if you will. Because as my hair fades out, at the same time I’m in the process of getting myself some real help and hoping to make better decisions.