The theme of Mental Health Awareness Week this year is bodies. Which, especially in this era of mass media, is incredibly relevant. I’ve spoken before about my own self-confidence struggles. As I grow older I seem to hate my body more and more. The only part of me I’m OK with is my hair. A part of me I never thought I’d relinquish control of.
Today’s been a day of two halves—a fabulous high immediately followed by a crashing low. More on the latter in a different post. As for the former, a few days ago I saw a local (posh) hairdressing salon I’ve been following on Instagram for months advertising for hair models. My immediate reaction was to keep scrolling—the word model and me don’t belong in the same sentence (no-one wants to advertise their brand with spotty, buck tooth, pencils). However, on a whim I commented on the post asking for more info and they told me to get in touch…could this actually come to something?
The gig was to allow a colourist to dye your hair for free (say whaaat?)! Considering I had been weighing up whether I could justify/ afford to get my hair coloured in this salon for AGES this was the opportunity of the year. The catch was the colour would be applied as part of a training day, and as far as I believed I would have no control on exactly what colour they went for. Images of smurf blue hair were filling my mind, and I asked myself many times as I contacted them what the heck I’d be letting myself in for.
I HATE being out of control. As I’ve said before I’m a massive over planner and I think way too much. I want to know what is going to happen, when, and how (but yet, for some reason unknown to me, I decided to try being a writer?). Thus, going to a salon knowing I was to have no creative control was…pretty scary. The lure of a free colour at the salon I’d dreamt of visiting for months was too strong, though, and I contacted them. Much to my astonishment I was accepted and an appointment scheduled.
No surprise, like 90% of the events I get myself nervous for, it was so much less scary than I had built it up to be. I sat in the middle of a huddle of hairdressers as they all discussed my hair and paid me more than a few hair-related compliments, then two began work on me. As they worked other hairdressers would stop on their way past and compliment my hair yet again. Bit of an ego boost. I was even asked before work started what I wanted—I absolutely hadn’t expected to have a say!
Good news, I do not now have blue hair. Or green. Or any other…surprising colour. Instead they took my outgrown bleached look and blended the roots to the blonde. Then toned the blonde to a much more natural dirty blonde. Not a single member of my family have noticed, bar my dog who gave my hair a good sniff, but I feel lovely. And smell pretty darn good too.
All of this to say, when we’re entrenched in our daily stresses, it is so important to take a minute to get back to ourselves. To relinquish control. Let Jesus take the wheel…or a hairdresser take your locks and coat them with fancy smelling goop. I know many people will roll their eyes at the idea of getting your hair done as ‘self-care’ but frankly they can piss off. This past year I’ve stopped caring about my appearance and I’ve felt terrible for it. I’ve lived in worn out leggings and left my hair unbrushed for days. So letting someone make me look a little more put together was certainly a treat (especially as I didn’t have to leave the salon doing sums in my head and stressing out about the cost). We all worry so much about the big things—the future, the planet, the meaning of life—we often forget to deal with the little things in the present. We all need to let go and say yes much more!
P.S. Yesterday this little blog reached over 1,000 views for 2019. Whilst this is teeny in the grand scheme of blogs it’s sort of blown my mind. There’s also (as of this second) 52 of you following! Thank you so much for taking an interest in my witterings, I hope more than anything some of my words have helped you, and am beyond grateful for your support.