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| September 2014 longer hair |
When I was a teenager, I first began experimenting with hair color. I don't remember why I wanted to do it. I must have seen a commercial on TV advertising Miss Clairol or something. I thought it would be a great idea to change the color of my hair. Back then, my hair was a beautiful shade of reddish brown with golden highlights. People would kill for that color. I wasn't disappointed with my hair, I just wanted a change, and you know teenagers, they're impulsive.
I bought a bottle of hair color and told my mother that I was going to dye my hair. She wasn't too happy. She tried her best to discourage me, but I was determined. I read the back of the box and followed the instructions to a tee. After about 45 minutes, my hair was a totally different color. I no longer had the beautiful reddish brown hair with golden highlights that God had so graciously given me, now I had bright clown red hair. I wasn't happy.
Back to the drugstore I went to find a way to correct this colossal mistake. The only thing I could think to do was dye my hair a darker shade, so I picked out a nice black thinking it would do the trick. When I got home, I went through the entire process again, and after another 45 minutes, my hair was no longer bright red, but midnight black. I stood looking in the mirror at my reflection. Who was this person? My complexion looked stark bwhite against my dark, dark hair. I wasn't thrilled but it was better than the bright red.
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| March 2015 shorter hair |
That began my love/hate relationship with hair color. From that first experience when I was a teen til now, almost 43 years later, I can't tell you how many boxes of hair color I've bought. I also can't tell you how many hair emergencies I've had during those years. Once, while recoloring my hair too soon after having just dyed it, my hair turned green! No, I'm not kidding. It was green! Thank heavens Clairol, or one of their competitors, invented a product to remove those horrid mistakes. I wish they'd had "Color Oops" back in the 70's when some of my worst hair nightmares occurred.
Over the years, I've learned a thing or two about hair color and the proper way to apply it. I've learned which products would give the best results and which colors looked best on me. I would say, after 40 something years of coloring and highlighting my hair, I've become a pro. I'd also say, I'm really tired of coloring, especially now that I have Lymphedema in my arms.
When I was younger, it was so easy to color my hair. My arms never got tired and I could have applied and removed hair dye all day long. Now, I struggle to lift my arms over my head. The swelling from Lymphedema is the culprit behind my difficulties and that very culprit has helped lead me to my decision...to shave my head.
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| August 2015 at the salon |
I told my youngest daughter about my decision last night. At 27, She was all for it! I asked her if she'd help me, you see, I can't manage the clippers myself because of arm pain. She was more than happy to help. I explained that I was tired of fighting the signs of aging. Every time I dyed my hair, I told her, within a few weeks, I'd have a band of white framing my face. No matter what color I chose, the white always came back and it just wasn't worth it any more for me to keep the battle going.
She asked if I was going to shave my head bald. I hadn't really thought about it, but I guess that would get rid of the majority of the color. Then I got to thinking...it's going to be much cooler soon. I get cold easily. Could I deal with having no hair on my head? Wouldn't I freeze to death? I could always put on a hat, or a wig....hmmmm.
I haven't decided how short I'll go. I know my goal is to get this fake hair color off of my head and allow my natural, God given, white hairs a chance to grow. It's going to be strange seeing myself with a head full of white locks, but it's time. I'm almost 58. I'm over the facade. I just want to be real.
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| August 2015 highlights |
It's amazing how losing your breasts can cause you to become fierce. Fifteen months of struggle and I've finally gotten to the point where I don't care about people's opinions any longer. The outside of me doesn't reflect the inside of me, so what's a few less hairs? I can always grow them back again. Think of all the money I'll save! And think of all the fun I can have playing with different wigs! I can go from short to long, blonde to black, in just a few minutes. Yes, it's definitely time...as soon as I get back from vacation, the clippers are coming out. I'm going to redefine what it means to be BOLD AND BEAUTIFUL.
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