Every time I comb my hair, I die a little bit inside as I hear strands of my hair snap off my head. Every time I blow dry, curl, or straighten my hair, I question my life choices once again. And every time I look at the mirror, I cringe at the frizz and flyaways as I quickly slather hair product to save my day. Sad, right? Well, here’s how it started.
Last year, I graduated high school. At that moment, I was liberated from the school dress code and the judgement of my fellow classmates of 4 years. So that summer, I decided to go all out, to become the person I wanted to be in preparation for my college life. As an artsy loser, the first thing in my head was that I wanted to dye my hair pastel purple. After seeing so many aesthetic pictures in Tumblr and Instagram, how could I not envy the pretty girls with pastel hair? As summer came close to ending, I quit my part time job as a waitress and headed to Sally’s Beauty Supply with a couple of friends. We packed our basket with packets of bleach, developer, toner, and dye. We got latex gloves, plastic bowls, and brushes to paint our virgin hairs. We got to my house and made this concoction with the help of various YouTube videos, because honestly that’s the closest we got to a hairstylist. Then we went for it, and the next thing I knew, my hair was bleached.
It wasn’t blonde, oh no. Because of my stubborn, black Asian hair, it was orange. At least it gave me some Fifth Element Leeloo vibes ha….ha.
Excuse my face.
Luckily, that isn’t the end of my story. Due to dissatisfaction, I bleached my hair once again. It ended up being less orangutan and more blonde. Yay? I could finally go out in public!
So yeah, that was me for the rest of the summer. It felt so weird. I would get startled every time I passed by a mirror, no joke.
Then, right before I moved to college, I did it again. MORE BLEACH. Wow, looking back, I was a savage to my hair. I bleached it so many times in such a short amount of time. I’m lucky I’m not bald.
For the first few weeks of college, I had very light blonde hair. To this day, I still think it looks hideous on me. Sadly, I don’t even have a picture of it for us to laugh at. But what I do have, is the part I’ve been waiting for, pastel purple hair.
People around school could recognize me for my hair color. I would get stopped by complete strangers for them to compliment me. I would get asked questions about how I did it, and half-jokingly I would respond, “I just killed my hair.” It was definitely a different life. I couldn’t believe it myself. Whether they thought I was a complete weeabo or a cool alternative gal, more people seemed to talk to me and wanted to get to know me. I was so happy. I felt happy because I could just be me, and people wanted to be friends with that. As a quiet person, I have only been able to express myself with my clothes. While I would get compliments for my clothes before, dyeing my hair took it to a new level. As I talked to more and more people, I gained so much confidence in myself. I believed that I was doing the right thing for me.
Eventually my hair actually faded to pink, and then faded back to blonde. After those few months, bleach and I went face to face one last time. I wanted silver hair. Granny hair was so hot at the time, I couldn’t resist since I was so close. I needed that platinum hair for a good base, and with just one more round of bleach and I was there. My silver hair was a game changer. My hair completely went to mush and died that day. But man, I loved it.
Silver is my favorite hair color. I love it more than I loved pastel purple. No matter what color I do, I would end up going back to silver.
However, another color I surprisingly enjoyed was blue. In an attempt to get dark green hair, my silver base left me with blue hair for some reason. At first, I hated it. After I washed my hair, I literally wanted to cry. I was so disgusted and scared people were going to make fun of my hair, but I ended up liking it and so did my friends, especially since my roots had grown out so much, I think it kind of worked well together.
So yeah, that was the last time I dyed my hair as of this day. The blue has now faded, and it went back to silver by itself. My hair knows me so well.
Since my roots have grown out a lot, I am faced with the question of whether I should return to my humble ways with my natural black hair. I am also wondering whether I should chop off these dead locks. Whatever I decide, I’m sure this summer, I will find another hair adventure. Undercut, maybe? Haha
Well, that’s my story. It may be silly that my hair has given me so much confidence, but that is something that will stick to me from now on. So even though I am faced everyday with the horror of damaged hair, I have no regrets, in fact, I’m so glad I did it. So, what has given you confidence? What are things you do to express yourself? I’d love to hear it.