Take That, Self Esteem

For the majority of my adult life, I have had black hair. It has become a part of me, part of my identity, and part of my armor when facing things that I didn't want to deal with. My hair colour has also been, in my opinion, a factor in keeping my secret self safe from harm because it has acted as a deterrent for most people. It's no secret that the first impression of a female with jet-black hair and tattoos is not a favourable one, and for many years I bought into that. I blamed a lot of my social awkwardness on the stereotype of my appearance. Sound ridiculous? Think about it; almost every woman has a totem that always makes her feel powerful and untouchable. Mine was black hair.

Deciding to change my hair colour was a difficult one. After having black hair for so long, it's hard for me to reconcile having a different colour. In the past when I've tried to do this I have always ended up dyeing my hair back to black in an effort to recapture something I thought I'd lost. I thought that my identity was tied directly to the image I was portraying; the image of the tough, no-nonsense chick with an attitude. Not that that image no longer applies; it certainly does. I just no longer feel the need to beat people over the head with how hard-core I am because they will find out one way or another.

Changing my hair has allowed me to let go of a lot of baggage that has been troubling me for years. Sounds strange, I know, but because I have changed my outward appearance, I feel more comfortable letting go of things. I no longer check my email thinking I will hear from people I haven't heard from in months because now it doesn't matter. They will either contact me or not. It's not up to me and I am fine with that. It isn't that I don't care about them, I just can't invest anymore emotion in something that isn't going to pan out.

All this because of a hair colour change? That's right. Now get out of my way; I have a world to conquer.