This blog is just going to be a quick one because I have something pretty important to be doing tonight, and it's not going to do itself. (Then again, what does?)
Last night I changed my hair colour, and I expected it to look completely barmy and outrageous to the point that I was killing myself to change it. It didn't come out as wrong as I thought. What I have heard a few times today, though, is oh, it looks quite natural. It's cool, but I would have to be a serious sort of a mess, the type where DNA has been through a blender to create this masterpiece.
The reason I'm not falling over myself to change it though is because changing my hair is usually associated with the word fix, and this doesn't need so much fixing. If I were going for a creative job, instead of admin roles as I am, I would probably keep it a little while and just let it be. It seems like nothing I do to my hair, even the highlighter orange, is too much for me just to accept it, dig my confidence out of the bottom drawer and just live with. It's less styling it out than not giving a crap about most people's opinions or assessments of me.
Now that last sentence is a weird one for me because a lot of my 'fears' or anxiety comes from the question, but what will people think? Back when I was 17 I asked myself that question and a lovely, strong voice would yell back (in my head) WHO CARES? It's something I'm trying to work my way back towards because in the end it helped me prioritise my happiness. It got me to London, to study Philosophy and it got me to self-publish a book. Yeah, it also got me into trouble a few times, but what's a river without a few rapids?
Basically, I'm trying to act natural, without the fearfulness, and then hopefully, at some point, it won't be an act, and I'll have beaten it. Practice makes perfect. Practising writing this blog every day is making me practice sitting down and committing to writing. It can only be a good thing.
Catch you tomorrow.
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