I wouldn't have known it was you if I hadn't seen your name.
I wouldn't have known it was you if I hadn't heard your voice.
You are braver than I am.
I didn't recognize you at all.
You'll love it, no up keep.
You do look your age but not older.
I miss the red.
I like the gray.
It is so dark, who knew.
For more than a year I have thought and pondered on my hair; cut it, grow it out, quit coloring it. Especially, the coloring part. This was a must larger weight on my shoulders than I imagined it would be. I can't remember exactly when the coloring began but I know it was between 15-18 years ago. First it was just as close to my regular shade as I could get it. Then I took the plunge to be a red head - something I had always wanted. Through the years I heard comments like this:
Your hair fits your attitude.
You look better as a red head.
You look vibrant.
Do you have a short fuse like natural red heads?
I never know what color your hair will be.
Sassy lady, sassy hair!
I had decided this time last year that I really wanted to see what my natural hair color would look like at this stage of my life. I began to ask myself the following:
Am I as gray as I fear I am?
Will I look really old?
Will people respect me more?
Will people respect me less?
Does it matter what color my hair is?
What's wrong with just accepting this natural part of life?
How can I be so consumed with what I eat and not care about the chemicals going on my head?
If I dye my hair and chat about not putting chemicals in my mouth is that like the pot calling the kettle black?
After Bennett & Brittany's wedding last May, I thought I was ready. I was vain enough to know I didn't want to look back on wedding pictures and see hair a bunch of different shades because of a grow out! I got my hair cut short in July. But I still colored my hair until August. I think it had something to do with moving to our little farm in the Summer. I thought about how excited I was to have the opportunity to live in such a beautiful place. A little roll to the land, some woods, a red barn, a place for chickens, a garden and flower beds. The natural beauty of Montani Farm gave me the courage to see if I could accept a natural me. I informed my stylist, Brett, of my decision. His response, I really love the red. I felt he was as skeptical as I was. But we began the journey. First came a shorter cut. Gone were the natural curls I had embraced in my earlier 40's. With this came a few comments like these:
Love the short hair, don't ever grow it out!
You look 10 years younger!!
I began to have doubts and all I had done was get my first hair cut. The first comment, made me feel very insecure. Something that many women battle over something. The second comment was flattering but who knew if they just meant I looked my age (44) or 34...I knew it wasn't 24!
Next came more haircuts than I had ever had in a years time. I was up to getting my hair cut about every 6 weeks at most. Brett and I discussed the more natural hair that was showing up with each cut. My hair became the joke of 50 shades of whatever! For over a month only the top had any color on it and the sides/back were just me. Then came the final cut!!! I was terrified. I had used the last bit of color and longer strands to help hide the silver that was glistening near my face. Today marks the 2 week mark. You would think I would be use to it by now but it is still a shock to me and I'm not sure if I will keep it natural. Yes, I know everyone will absolutely know I color my hair if I go back but who cares, not me.
This is what I have realized over the past year and a half. I have given too much thought over this! It has been the subject of way too many conversations. A few moments of stress. In the end, it's just hair and it's OK whatever I decide. I will be turning 45 this Summer which has been a realization of its own. I often say, I am half way to dead. People give me a look or a comment. But the reality is - more than likely that I have lived half my life. This has also been a source of thought about the "hair process". Is it time to look "my age"? Is it time to take on the look for the next part of my life? Or do I be the rebel my family has reminds me of on a regular basis of being like Maw, my great-great grandmother, who passed away when I was 16, always had her hair colored red - even had a touch up job after her death before the funeral to make sure it was presentable in Maw fashion!
That's it. That's my journey over the past months in regard to the most important thing in my life, my hair - NOT!!!! At least no one can ever accuse me of having the same style for a lifetime....
March 2013
May 2013
July 2013
September 2013
December 2013
February 2014
