Hair Color Schizophrenia

I was born a warm, honey-like, golden blonde.  After spending summers with my hair up in a ponytail as a child, when I would take my hair down you would see natural, sun-kissed highlights.  They were the kind that people pay lots of money for in a salon, but can rarely obtain.

As I entered my teen years, my natural hair color darkened, to what I refer to as "mud."  Not a dark blonde, not a light brown, just plain old, dirty mud. Luckily my boyfriend at the time was good family friends with a hairdresser and she introduced me to the world of highlights, and I've never been the same since.  I loved having lighter, brighter streaks streaming throughout my hair.

But, as high school went on and I was on the cheerleading squad all four years, I began to resent the blonde, ditzy stereotype I was living up to.  I was green with envy over my friends' dark, lucious, Kardashian-esque locks.  To me, dark hair was equated with mystery, sex appeal, exotic ancestry....all of which I was the polar opposite.

Finally upon graduating from high school I took the plunge and chopped my hair into a cute, college-appropriate 'do, and went over to the dark side, making my hair a rich mocha shade.  Boy, did I feel sophisticated!  When I settled into Boston University, I felt interesting, smarter, and like people were going to take me seriously.  Needless to say, my family hated it.  To them I would forever be their blonde little angel, taken over by this strange, dark, serious college coed imposter.

For the rest of college I went back and forth from blonde to brown, but when graduation rolled around, I really wanted to feel like "me," so I stuck with the blonde.

A few years later when my father passed away I kept my hair a neutral, unnoticable brown shade.  I don't think I realized it at the time, but I think my hair color was expressing how I felt for that period of my life.  Not only did I feel dark on the inside, I looked it on the outside.  And it's sad but true- I did get less attention as a brunette, which was what I wanted in that moment.

From then on I played with different browns and reds, always fighting my roots as a blonde.  Last year marked five years since my father passed away, and only then did I start to feel the clouds lift and began to sense my old, happy self creeping back.

I am getting married this April, and the question amongst all my friends has been, "What color will your hair be for your wedding?"  Until today, I wasn't sure.  I will always mourn the loss of my father, but I want to look like the person he knew me as.  I want to look like the person my friends grew up with and learned to love.  I want to look like my mom's little angel.  But most importantly I want to look like my true, original self, so I can walk down the aisle and see my husband-to-be, and know that he is marrying the real, unedited me, (plus a few false eye lashes).

Your hair color doesn't determine who you are, but it does affect how you feel about yourself.  Blonde does not mean better, but for me, it was just going back to who I am.  The old stereotypes will never go away- the sexy brunette, the fiery redhead, and the bubbly blonde....Just pick what feels right for you, and your personality will do the rest!