So I dyed my hair again for the first time in about 3 months a couple nights ago. Leading up to it I received plenty of grief from my BF about letting my hair just grow out blonde. Despite his attempts to thwart my plans though, I went ahead and covered the blonde again with my brunette I love so much. And he's always telling me he doesn't understand why girls are always dying their hair the opposite color. Ya know, I can't really say why other girls do it. I suppose it's cause the want to have what they can usually have or so it for personal aesthetic.
I mean, sure. I personally like the way I look better with darker hair. I'm pretty pale, so my blonde kinda washes me out whereas brunette makes me feel like I'm alive and not a ghost. I like brown because it's still a natural color. People don't believe me when I say I'm blonde. It fits me.
But dying my hair is more than just to make me look prettier.
Before being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes more than 6 years ago, I had pretty normal-thick hair. It could grow long without being stringy and had shine and was healthy. And then when I was diagnosed and put on insulin, my body went through a stage of high stress and I lost A LOT of hair.
I remember one time in math class in 8th grade, I got out of my seat and I looked at it and stuck in the little metal rivets was a wad of hair. My hair. From 1 hour of sitting in class there was this giant tumbleweed. And I was mortified. I thought I was legitimately going to go bald. It made me go to a really low point in my life. Here I was trying to adjust to a whole new lifestyle, going through typical middle school ages things and now my hair was on a suicide mission. I already had crooked teeth. Already had glasses. Now my hair was going to be gone too?
This became a real worry for me, no matter how much my mom tried to convince me that it would stop as my body adjusted to insulin, and I wouldn't go bald. When you stand up and it appears that at minimum 100 hairs have given up on you, it doesn't make you feel good.
So I convinced my mom to let me dye my hair. I had always wanted too, for the vanity reasons, but she wouldn't allow me. But she saw that I needed a positive change after my life had been flipped.
I remember going to the haircut place and chopping off the long hair into the style of my favorite video game character (Yuna from Final Fantasy X - who happens to still be my basis for haircuts) and dying my hair with my mom in our kitchen. We went dark. It was the most exciting day I had had in a very long time.
And ever since that day so many years ago, I have generally maintained my brunette status.
My hair grew back thicker, it shed again when I under stress. It has never really gone back to that hair I once had, but I love it even more because it gave me a sense of control when all control in my life had been taken away. It was my step towards emotionally healing.
And then I almost lost it. All of it.
Back in February of this year I was diagnosed with aplastic anemia. I was going to have to go through chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant. And in the process, I was going to lose my hair.
And I had to accept that. For all I knew, my security blanket was going to be gone. My control wouldn't be there. It's one of the many things I cried about that month. And I felt so bad about feeling sad about it, but I couldn't help but feel hopeless.
Then I stepped up to the plate, and at my doctors visit at the cancer hospital, my mom and I legit looked at wigs. We had an idea, planned it all out, what style and color.
But boy did I go through the biggest twist in my life. I was told my body had managed to build back its blood and immune system. I did not have to go through chemo or a transplant for the foreseeable future. Sure, I'll always run the risk of it coming back and I will have to go through it but for now, I was fine. I was healed. As horrible as the past month had been, and how almost as confusingly devastating the news about being better was, I was going to keep my hair.
This hair that I choose to maintain and keep how I want it is even more precious to me. It sounds so stupid. It's just hair. But it's been a been a very significant symbol in my life.
It's the one thing that I love that I get to control and change and manipulate about myself. And if I ever decide to go blonde again, I will. But I'll get to decide that. Not the diseases that have already wrecked havoc on my life.
And that is why I dye my hair.
Till next time,
Annie
