On Friday, I got new hair. New hair!! Well, not really “new” hair. I mean, it’s still my same old, super-fine, not-nearly-thick-enough hair on my head. But it feels like brand new hair. Is there anything better than getting your hair done? I mean, really … There is something so incredibly uplifting and liberating about getting a really great color and cut. It makes me feel better about everything in my life. It makes me feel better about being me. And that, my friends, is a tall order.
I’ve been rocking the “crazy” hair color for a while now. But all in different tones of blue — sometimes dark, sometimes bright, sometimes more pastel, sometimes kinda turquoise, sometimes a mix of several of these tones. But always blue. I love me some blue. It is my favorite color of life. I think blue is my spirit animal. Can a color be a spirit animal? Whatever. If I had a spirit animal, it would be blue. This is what I’m saying.
So, of course, you are probably sitting there, reading this post and thinking, “Yeah, yeah. We get it. You love blue. You went with blue hair yet again, and you are sitting here all excited and pretending it’s totally different. When it’s not.” I can see why you would think this. I tend to get obsessed with things. And once I settle on a color I love, I stick with it. For-freaking-ever!
But there are times in our lives when we just feel like we need a change. When it’s time to blast our way out of the rut we have dug for ourselves, even if that rut has become comfortable and feels safe. Especially if that rut feels safe and comfortable! My life has been one giant ball of stress since last October. And, you know what? I’m not sure it’s ever going to get any better. I don’t know if things are ever going to settle down. Or if I will ever feel better about … well, anything. I’ve been so out of sorts recently. So I went into my appointment on Friday and, when my stylist asked me what I wanted to do, I told her I needed a change. I had a color combination suggestion, but I told her I was willing to leave it all up to her.
And this is what I ended up with! I love it so, so, so much. I wasn’t expecting pink tones at all. I told my stylist I didn’t even want to see it until she was totally done with the cut and style and everything. And when she was done and told me to take a look … Well, honestly, I can’t even describe it. I went into the salon with drab, dull hair that had faded out in all the wrong places and that was much, much too long for my liking. I went into the salon feeling horrible about life and myself. I felt ugly and unhappy and just … ick.
And then, I looked into the mirror and saw this amazing creation of pinks and purples and blues and turquoises, and I wanted to cry. Not in a bad way. It made me so, so, so happy. It doesn’t sound like enough to say that it made me happy. And yet, saying this is saying everything in one small word. I could feel the laughter bubbling up, coming from somewhere deep down inside of me — a place I had almost forgotten existed. And I stood there, staring into the mirror without recognizing the amazingly brave, beautiful person staring back at me. And I felt all of these things inside of me: laughter and amazement and tears and just all the feels. My stylist was watching me. I could see her reflection in the mirror, just over my shoulder. And she had a worried look on her face. Until I managed to choke out, “I love it.”
It hardly seems adequate. I wanted to explain to her how I had come in feeling low and depressed and horrible. I wanted to tell her how I have had trouble dragging myself out of bed every morning since last October, when my aunt passed away. I wanted to tell her how I have nightmares at night about my husband dying. I wanted to explain that all of these things have been whirling away inside of my mind, hammering at me until I started to hate myself. I wanted to tell her how I came into my appointment feeling ugly and like I wasn’t worthy of existence. But now … Now, I felt brave and beautiful and, somehow, more human than before. I couldn’t find the words to explain any of this, so I fell back on telling her how much I loved it. I gave her a hug, and I hope she, somehow, knows the amazing miracle she has worked in my life. A miracle in the form of something as simple as hair.
Does it fix everything in my life? Will having a new and different hair color mean that I won’t be depressed? Or that I will, suddenly, not be stressed about things I can’t control? Or that things will, magically, be perfect for us emotionally and financially and all of that? No, of course not. It’s just hair. But it makes me feel better about myself. It makes me feel better about being who I am. It makes me feel like I am worthy of being alive and taking up space in this world. It makes me feel beautiful.
And, when the depression and the troubles start to hammer away at me, I can always tell myself: Not today, guys. Because I’m a unicorn!