So many things in life are ironic and their numbers seem to grow with age. I have more hair on my body but less where I actually want it. After years of trying to appear older, I now despair over creases that no longer disappear when my expressions fade. Now that I am able to stay out until all hours of the night, I am too bored and/or tired to actually do so. And I still have acne even though I'm over 30 years old! What is up with that??
The newest (and most disturbing) irony is that, after all this time, I still am crushed by a bad review. I really thought I was past caring what people thought about me. I feel I have developed a strong enough sense of self to withstand peer pressure and let my individuality and unique personality shine through the gloom of routine conformity.
Case in point: As most of you know, I have recently changed my hair colour. Admittedly I've been dying my hair for many a year now, sporatically when gray hair started to show and regularly when my partner started to style hair. So I've toyed with various shades of brown but nothing radical until now. For some reason, when he offered to make me blonde after a haircut, my heart screamed "YEEEEES!" I want to be that popular tanned Ken-doll jock in high school that just smiled and people loved him. I want to be fun, less serious. I want to feel edgy and attractive. I want attention!
Forty-five minutes later I couldn't recognize myself in the mirror. Oh dear God what have I done? On the flip side it was strangely like I saw myself as God's creation for the first time. I had this totally different perspective of me and it was neither good nor bad, it was just me. And I was new!
I must admit my blonde ambition has been fun. I've received kudos galore and even more out-right stares of (what I hope were) admiration. The most important review of course was the one I gave myself everyday in the mirror. I spiked, flipped, combed both up and down and yes, even dabbled with a faux hawk.
With all this in mind I was more than a little surprised that the only bad reviews were from members of my immediate family. And they weren't merely bad, they were scathing to the point I felt personally attacked.
Being raised with the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" dictum, I really have tried to be kind in my criticisms, knowing that with my verbal skills, I could be vitriolic. I never want to send out that kind of toxic energy. So why do I allow a bad review or two to penetrate me so deeply? I should be beyond caring, right? I really thought that I was.
At any rate, being blonde has been a blast but at the end of the day, it really isn't me. The real me keeps growing at the roots, pushing the lighter me out. My partner has suggested I return to those roots in preparation for my return to my Kansas roots at Christmastime. He's right as usual of course. Because, after all, I am beautiful, no matter what they say!
Sunday, October 14, 2007
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9 comments:
My vote is for hot pink or maybe blue (imagine how your eyes would POP!) for Christmas and give them something to really talk about. Plus, the new baby will LOVE the contrast and you'll have a new best friend and everyone will be amazed at your mad baby skills!!!
P.S. New blog...don't be shocked. I'm trying something new and I need it for this knitting swap I'm doing...coffee and yarn...can it get much better?
I think that you allow those reviews affect you deeply because they are your immediate family, they're outright honesty and their opinions matter a great deal. But just remember my friend, you can dye your hair a different colour, wear different coloured contacts or even attempt to dress differently, but at the end of the day...you're still you and the only thing that really matters is how you feel. - D
P.S. why not dye it with something festive like green and red when you go back..and really give them something to talk about..he!he! j/k.
I think their opinions affect you deeply because they are your immediate family. Their outright honesty and opinions matter a great deal. But just remember my friend, you can dye your hair a different colour or wear different coloured contacts, but at the end of the day you're still you and the only thing that really matters is how you feel - D
P.S. Why not dye it with something festive like red and green for when you come back...now that will really give them something to talk about. he!he!..j/k.
Okay Dan ...
Its just cruel to tease with words ... I am a visual creature ... I need to see a photo ... C'monnnnnnnnn (yes that was a whine)! Blionde ... Mohawk ... this I cannot imagine ...
Natty's idea of blue ... I once saw this guy at a music festival I was working at ... he had the most incredible blue hair ... after a couple of days of seeing him around, I had to ask - and tell him it looked incredible! The process to get it to the blue shade was pretty brutal ... he said they had to strip his hair twice and then started the dye job. AMAZING! WHat we do for beauty!
:)
J shared pix with me of your new do and I loved it. Life's too short not to try a few different shades now and then.
You should be allowing your bf to penatrate you deeply, NOT stupid comments from people.
I have always wanted to dye my hair some outrageous color. ALWAYS! i have wanted to ahve blue or green hair but i never had the guts. Mostly becuase i know when i see people like that i scoff and say "think that's their real hair color?" So i am chicken shit. BUT NOT YOU GIRL!
I say wear it with pride!
Just make sure the carpet matches the drapes, i'm just sayin'!
The first time I dyed my hair, it was from blonde to bright red (not fire engine, but almost Tori red). I came home, and sat down on the couch to read the paper. My mom got home and walked past me into her bedroom. She walked back out and looked at me.
"That's temporary dye isn't it?" she asked.
"No," I said in my early-20's haughtyness (it should have been late-teens hautyness but I was a late bloomer), "It's permenant."
"Oh really." Her contempt dripped.
"Yes. Really." My defiance flared.
She turned around and went back into her bedroom for a while, and I sat on the couch quaking inside, waiting for her to grab me by the hair and haul me out to some 24-hour beauty parlour and demand that they strip my hair and dye it back blonde. She didn't, she just came back out and railed at me at how I was making a mistake, it didn't look good, didn't I care that no one liked it, etc. etc. I calmly told her that *I* liked it (and so did my friends who dyed it for me), and really, at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.
I told her the same thing about my tattoo as well.
I'm not saying that her words didn't hurt... they cut me to the core. I'll spin you the tale sometime about when I got my tattoo and how horrible I felt keeping it a secret from my mom, and then how much worse I felt after she knew.
However, knowing that I was happy with my decisions helped me through all of it. do what makes YOU happy. Your family loves you, and will continue to love you no matter what colour your hair is. They won't understand (oh how I've wailed that line about my own family countless times), but underneath it all they will still love you.
For what it's worth, I liked it ;) It took me by surprise, but I liked the blonde! I miss my blonde sometimes. Sometimes. But I like myself as a redhead better.
I say dye it whatever color you want. Just don't start acting blonde.
:^)
Dang, I guess I will join in with all the comments. Which, you can see how much people love you by all the comments. :) I think it's fab. At least family outside your immediate family like it. We've always been a bit hipper.
Christmas in Kansas? I guess that will be fun. At least you will get to play favorite uncle. The new baby alone makes the visit worthwhile.
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