That's Why Her Hair's So Big...

I have always been a firm believer that a good hair do is pretty much paramount to maintaining personal happiness levels. Partly because of the fact that I went to an all girls school, but mostly because of the fact that my mum is a hairdresser- hair is important.

I've always had a lot of hair. When I was little it was a curse. My hair was think and wavy and knotty and for some reason I spent most of primary school with it in a low ponytail which only further highlighted that my face is was round it was practically a planet. As a grew up it became the thing I loved most about myself. At one point my mum also cut it into a bob, so short she may as well have just sheered it all off and no, she still isn't entirely forgiven (who lets a five year old decide what's good for them?! I'm 21 and I still don't know what's good for me!)

Something about me was braver when it came to my hair- I didn't care what other people thought. I started colouring it at 10 (my mum had brightly coloured hair throughout most of my childhood so she really couldn't have said no) and it went on from there. In Year 9, I was threaten with suspension because the block of red running through my mane did not stick to the 'natural hair colour only' rule my all girls school enforced. Then, at 16, I went from brunette to redhead and never looked back.
It's been blue and yellow and purple, and orange and red and brown and it never scared me. Whilst other parts of my appearance have always seems like an uphill struggle (my skin, my stomach, my inability to have at high gap), I've always been at one with my hair- even if I have been ripping a brush through it and praying I'd wake up with it naturally pin straight (still no such luck).

Now my hair is pink. After a year of doing nothing but excruciatingly question each tiny decision I have made and not knowing myself from one day to the next- I finally feel like I'm being to regain control of me.

Between graduating, booking my trip, starting my internship, and the new hair; I guess I'm starting to see bits of myself I thought I'd lost forever.

So fuck it. Maybe this is narcissistic and shallow as hell, but I don't care. This is an appreciation post for my hair. It makes me feel good about myself and it reminds me to always be a bit braver and a bit bolder. Who knows, maybe if we all started appreciating the parts of ourselves we truly love a little more- loving all the slightly less great bits will become less of a battle.

-xo