I wanted to talk about this last week because this issue has kind of begun to sit in my mind and grow over the last couple of months. But it was only last week that I realized something: I never want to be a brunette ever again.
Let me back up. First off, yes, this article sounds insane. Why is dyeing my hair going to change who I am? Well, long story short, I was born with straight brown hair from my father’s side. My brother has thick dark brown hair like my mom. So we all have dark hair in our family, and beside me, short hair. As long as I can remember though, I’ve wanted to be blonde.
I always thought that people who were blonde were more attractive. Seeing the popular kids as I grew up, they all seemed to have blonde hair, highlights, waves, curls, perfect hair. I have straight brown hair. I always thought that part of the reason people didn’t like me was that I looked so boring. So maybe that’s part of why my personality is so large. I’m what you’d call an extroverted introvert solely due to the fact that I don’t make an effort to talk to new people. But, once you get to know me, that’s when I always have something to say.
Growing up, I constantly wanted to be blonde. I’d beg my mother, tell her I wanted to be beautiful like the other girls with blonde hair, that I wanted to have long blonde hair instead of my brown. She insisted that, due to the nature of pale skin that our entire family has but her, she told me, “You’ll look washed out, and blonde isn’t going to make you beautiful, it’ll make you look like everyone else.”
But wouldn’t you want that? A kid growing up in a school where everyone bullies one another and makes fun of the one thing they’re sensitive about or makes them feel unwelcome at the lunch table or in classes. And being a girl? Trust me, that made it much worse.
I went to college, still with my brown hair, and it still felt inappropriate to me. I kept seeing all these new people with wild hairstyles–ways of coloring and cutting their hair no one in my high school would have dared to do. I was so fascinated by it that, finally, after years of only getting my hair cut when it got too damaged, I was going to dye my hair. How?
I didn’t know for two years.
Back in my hometown, I found out that a friend I went to high school with was now a licensed beautician. I contacted her and asked her more questions than I care to admit. But before long, in the summer of 2017, she helped me figure out exactly what I wanted.
Caramel highlights.
But it wasn’t enough. With these highlights, I felt so much freedom in the little change that I’d made. There was some difference, there was some variety. It made me so ecstatic. But only for the first four months.
By the time the new year was rolling in, I didn’t want highlights anymore. I wanted a full-color change. I wanted to be someone new. Finally, after turning 21, there was something inside of me that demanded a change. High school’s reasoning was because I wanted to blend in. College was because I was tired of brown–for good.
I decided to do a gradual change. I spent most of my summer working, accumulating around 40 hour weeks, so I knew I’d have the money to do this. My hairdresser suggested a subtle change, and then we’d do the dramatic one at the end of the summer.
In June, I went in and became a sandy blonde.
It felt amazing, and I couldn’t contain my excitement. I shared the new color with my friends and took photos to show social media that I finally achieved one of my favorite joke dreams: sandy blonde hair with large black-framed glasses since I’d gotten my prescription changed.
People in my hometown didn’t know who I was. I ran into friends that had to do double takes to make sure I was me. The hair was just radiating such happiness from me. Even people at work noticed a different pep in my step. My regulars would compliment it, saying they liked the small change, and my friends told me it looked amazing.
But after a while, it still wasn’t enough, and I was looking forward to going back to my hairdresser.
I took my Snapchat on the journey with me, telling them it was time for me to “achieve my final form”. I promised to keep them updated and took pictures as my hair was colored and wrapped in foil.
When I looked in the mirror and saw my blonde after sitting in her chair for the last four and a half hours, I was actually trying not to cry.
There I was, blonde Nickey, seeing the image I’d wanted since I was six years old.
I thanked my hairdresser constantly and ran to work since I had a shift that night.
But when I got home, I was greeted with at least two dozen messages from people all asking the same thing: Where’s the final result?
So, at 10:30 at night and a long shift at work, I showed everyone the results. And I got a lot more feedback than expected.
Messages came pouring in from my friends, people from high school I hadn’t seen, family, even people I never really talk with. Everyone loved the color, and they all wanted me to know it.
I couldn’t believe that this was finally me. After so many years of dreaming of blonde, wishing I was blonde, looking at pictures and hating myself for the brunette I had no choice in owning.
I was finally who I wanted to be.
Something in me seemingly switched on when I saw this hair. Something inside of me that used to care so much about what I looked like, making sure every tiny detail about my hair and face mattered. I hated to wear up my hair. I had to use products for my hair, I was unable to stop feeling so self-conscious about myself.
I stopped caring.
I wear my hair up more often than I ever liked. I stopped caring if my hair is perfect or not. I feel more beautiful, even without the copious amounts of makeup I wear. Because having this blonde, having this confidence, having this “thing” that I always wanted actually helped me significantly.
While maybe confidence could have come in another form for me, dyeing my hair to feel like the person I’m meant to be isn’t such a big deal. I wanted to find some form of happiness in my life, and somehow it was dyeing my hair.
Let me say this, however:
Just because it worked for me, doesn’t mean it’ll work for everyone.
I wanted this. I saved and worked for this in the last several years. It’s a lot of money and a change I made after four years of going back and forth. But it has been so worth it for me. I’ve never felt this level of confidence and beauty. I have never felt so much like the person I was meant to be until I looked in the mirror at the salon and saw a blonde girl staring back at me.
She looked like the person I always pictured on the inside.
Any small change truly can be a confidence booster. It doesn’t have to just be hair like mine was. It could be redoing your bedroom, getting your ears or nose pierced, it could be changing up your wardrobe, even changing the way you do your makeup. Little bits of change are good, and this comes from someone who absolutely hates change. But in small doses, like the ones I mentioned, they can also be the greatest choices.
It’s no easy feat, but it has been one the greatest changes I’ve ever made. After a lifetime of never feeling like I am beautiful in any sense of the word, becoming the blonde I knew I was changed that.
So now, I introduce the world to blonde Nickey.
If you want to make a change like this, the only thing in your way is you.