Recently, I dyed my hair back to my natural color after dying it for three years straight. Having black to almost black hair for an extended period ripped out more of me than I thought. When I made the decision to strip the black out of my hair and go back to my natural medium-brown, I felt like myself again.
The moment my hairdresser finished blow-drying my hair, I felt like this. It was like a pit in my stomach dissolved.
I know it sounds silly, but I felt like a different person when my hair was darker. I didn’t feel like myself, but rather this facade of myself. I didn’t like who I was when my hair was darker, but I kept it for so long because other people liked it.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I went back to my natural color, and I feel better. I’ve broken back out of this social shell I put myself into and started to be me again. I’m standing up for myself more and making more of an effort to stand out rather than force it.
That was the biggest issue—I was forcing my persona.
I was becoming a version of myself that wasn’t me. I became standoffish and honestly fake. I was such a fake person, whether it came to others or myself. I would catch myself being mean. I would be mean to others and mean to myself.
Who was I?
I know this isn’t completely my hair’s fault. I know the dye wasn’t seeping into my brain and causing me to act like this. But the attention I got from this was causing it. I was so worked up about what others felt about my hair that I became obsessed with it. It started to stress me out. When someone, men especially (in my pre-boyfriend time), didn’t like me, I thought it was because I didn’t look cool enough. I wasn’t pretty enough. My hair wasn’t dark enough.
I realized this over winter break. I didn’t want to end my college career feeling like this, and I’m the only person who can truly fix it. So, I went back.
I already had a hair appointment booked, and the face my hairdresser made when I told her I wanted to strip the black out was photo-worthy. She was more worried that my hair would die, but even my hair was okay with it, and it became healthier than ever.
I became healthier, too. I stopped obsessing over my hair and embraced who I am. I didn’t need to hide behind this persona of someone with really dark hair because that’s not who I am. I am someone with medium-dark hair.
Plus, let’s be real. The black only looked good when I had a tan.
I initially went darker to keep up with current trends. But the trend went so wrong. The way it ate at me all day, every day. It started to affect my everyday life, especially if I didn’t think it was good enough.
I should have embraced my natural hair color all along. I love my medium-brown hair that pulls red. It’s unique to my mom and me. It makes me, well, me. People know me as a person with brown hair, not dyed black hair, because that’s not me.