New Hair, New Me

I got a new 'do.

I appreciate this isn't going to be particularly big news in your lives, or even anything you're particularly interested in reading 700 words about. But you're here now and I've already typed them all so do stick around and indulge my superficial ramblings.

I booked my hairdressers appointment for the usual (half head of highlights and a trim) a few weeks back ahead of my trip to Budapest coming up - knots galore and roots the size of the Burj Khalifa were not a look I was ready to rock on my holibobs. But when I sat in that chair I decided it was time for something completely different.

I've been going through a bit of a crappy time recently and was in need of a pick me up. Where most turn to a large glass of wine, I tend to go for a hair change. Throughout the years I've altered my hair colour whenever I've needed a little refresh. I've been brunette, auburn, ombre and more recently blonde. This time the change came in the form of a cut and re-style. I usually shy away from anything more than a 1-inch trim because I feel a strange attachment to my hair. Like Samson's holds his strength, mine holds my femininity. Actually it's more than that, it holds my identity. Who am I without my staple long locks?

But that's what led us to here. I needed more than a new colour, I needed a completely new look. A new me, tbh. I sat there, with damp hair - and a rather confused stylist - and asked her to cut it to my collar bone. "Are you sure", she asked, looking at me as though she didn't want to bear my wrath after I changed my mind. She clearly understands how us girls who favour lengthy hair will cut you with your own bloody scissors if you try to mess with our mane. "I'm sure", I told her with an unsure smile.

It was time to be brave. My long hair is something I hide behind, something I cover myself up with. Shorter hair makes me feel vulnerable. Visible. But every now and then we need to step outside our comfort zones, if we hope to find something better. Like the Sheryl Crow hit encourages 'a change would do you good' and so I braved the scissors, and let my stylist loose to lop my mop off. 

So here I am: new hair, new me. As if taking a few inches off my locks could erase the past crappy week and actually make me a new person. Hey, I never said it was a plan that makes sense but it is a plan that works, for a little while at least. Coming out of the hairdressers with my glossy new look, flipping my hair and strutting my stuff in the summer sunshine, I felt completely refreshed and ready to face the world. It's one of the few times I've left the hairdressers happy. 

Isn't it funny how a small change, something as small as the colour or length of our hair, can have such a huge impact on our confidence?

I wish I had taken the plunge sooner. All these years I've held onto my hair like a security blanket. I clung to it like it couldn't possibly grow back, afraid to be without it. If everything happens for a reason, then recent events are to thank for making me feel brave enough to leave the salon with this fabulous new 'do.

It had been too long since my last appointment and my hair, with it's dark roots, brassy ends and straw like texture, was broken and lifeless and completely reflecting my mood. Now it feels soft, light, bouncy and cute AF - as do I. So clearly this small, superficial change has been completely worth it. I feel brand new, and yet, at the same time, more like myself than I have done in a while.

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