The theme of fresh starts and new beginnings seems to be
infiltrating my life at the moment; I’m not sure what it is about June but
everyone seems to have decided to hit the restart button and I’m so on-board for this current craze.
Upon returning from my ‘words-cannot-describe’ Caribbean
holiday, I decided that I would do something I haven’t done in over nine years
– organise a hair makeover. Whilst this may seem somewhat underwhelming and
disappointingly predictable, it’s a huge thing for me.
How could a hair makeover be this exciting you may ask? Well, let me tell you…
At the end of my first year of university my hair decided to start
thinning and falling out in chunks.
Yes, women reading this, I see your jaws dropping and eyes swelling with
genuine pity. Any woman reading this can empathise with this terrifying
wide-awake nightmare. At first I believed this to be just an example of the way
in which our bodies can be so mean sometimes, and turns out, it was really the
other way round. I was putting so much undue stress on my body that it was
using all its energy to keep the other parts of me, that it deeded more
important, going strong. (Personally, I think my body needs to sort out it’s
priorities…I still had to go for a regular leg and bikini wax, something I
would have loved to have done without!). My body was giving me, a somewhat
harsh, but definitely necessary wake-up call.
Whilst you may think my hair worries are relatively
insignificant to other things that could happen, I firmly disagree. Our hair is
so intertwined with our personality, and it’s not shallow and it’s not a clear
example of how our society is so obsessed with looks. It is all about
expressing ourselves.
Some of my favourite writers, including Leandra Medine, have discussed with many women, how our hair evolves with us and is a symbol
of what stage of our life we’re at. This hair makeover is entirely symbolic of
my life
overhaul.
This morning I read Victoria Coren-Mitchell (aka my
superhero) discussing the concept of reinventing yourself in this month’s Elle,
and how the Internet has made this impossible. Well, for me it’s the other way
round, I don’t want to reinvent myself, I want to remember myself.
Frankly, I don’t mind the Internet reminding me of the time
where boys were the centre of my world or when I decided to bleach the entire
bottom layer of my hair blonde (now you understand my fear of hair makeovers,
right?). This is because they remind me of a time in my life where I was
learning; I learned the harsh lesson of having your heart broken and the even
crueller lesson of having your hair stripped.
Luckily and at last, my hair is back to its good old self. But
I’m in a new period of learning now. My life has metaphorically had its hair
stripped and instead of cowering from the mirror and the reality of the
situation, I’m going to get my butt into that salon chair and do something
about it. Let the live overhaul begin. I’ll keep you posted.
