The Mourning of Hair

The Mourning of Hair

That title sounds so... dramatic... like The Silence of the Lambs... only more like "The Morning of the Hare"... or Breaking Dawn of the Rabbit...

Sorry.

But seriously, I'm mourning my hair today. Why? Because for the past oh, say, seven years my hair has looked relatively the same. Untouched by dye and only cut to a modest variation, my hair has been long, straight, deep, dark and mahogany in color.

But today that changed. Peroxide was involved... along with hours in a salon chair... the sharp reek of chemical... the crinkle of tin foil....

The result?

Streaks.

Sounds anti-climatic right? But wait!

They are blond streaks!

BRIGHT blond streaks!

Bright, bright blond streaks!

LOTS of Bright blond streaks!

So much Bright Blond Streaks that I'm having trouble deciding if I still qualify as a brunette.

So whats the big deal? It's just hair right?

Well, yes and no. My hair is one of the few parts of my appearance I've never felt insecure about. My hair never got fat. It never grew zits or made an embarrassing smell in public. It never had a "There's Something About Mary" moment nor did it ever all fall out at once... even after a particularly hideous perm.

I liked my hair as it was. It was dark and dramatic... it set off my eyes... I liked saying, when asked, "Yes, that is my natural color... I haven't dyed my hair in years." My hair was familiar... it was comfortable. The thought of changing it was a little disconcerting... because once done, there was no going back (you cant immediately go back to your natural hair after dying it). The thought was a little scary. Scary? Really? Yes! I find change a little... scary, most of the time.

Which is why I dyed my hair today. One small step for man, one giant leap for Chelsi-kind!

Because I need change. I want change. But I'm more than a little scared of it!

Which is why I figured... If I cant change something as simple as my hair, how in God's green earth was I going to change anything else in my life?

Change is good.

So they tell me.

But just between you and me...

I miss my old hair. I'm scared of the coming change. I want to snuggle up in my deep bed, pull my old comforter over my head, snuggle up to Hawkydogs warm speckled hide and stay that way- safe, warm, familiar... comfortable... forever.

Thank goodness life doesn't work that way. But sometimes, just for a single moment.... dont you wish it did?

As you can see, depending on the light it can look either really light or really dark with light steaks. I think in reality it is somewhere in between but I'm having trouble getting used to it when it keeps looking so different all the time. Btw, the below photo was taken just after I got home and looked in that familiar mirror for the first time. I freaked out and called my sister.... I wasn't "posing" for this shot (I was just trying to get a shot of the streaks to send to her) and accidentally caught this expression... which I think should be titled...

"Holy Shit"