If I had to pick another love besides writing, editing, or reading, it would probably be dyeing my hair with funky colors. I love turning my blonde hair into blue, pink, red, green, purple, or a mix of several.
And I always get tons of compliments. Most recently, I was with my current colors when my family and I returned to Las Vegas to celebrate my twenty-third birthday.
It’s all on the top of my head, with blue on the outside, magenta on the inside, and purple blending in where the two colors mingled.
People were saying how awesome my hair was wherever I went. I think I even overheard a showgirl call me cotton candy. But, of course, she wasn’t wrong, and I found it funny.
How My Hair Dyeing Journey Began
My hair-dyeing journey started over ten years ago when I was in sixth grade.
I don’t remember why, but my mom had suggested that I put pink streaks into my hair. I know it wasn’t for picture day since it took place before school started, and I was partway through the year.
Anyway, despite being one of the weird kids who didn’t really have any friends, students and teachers seemed to like it.
I don’t think I dyed my hair in seventh grade. At that point, I had just begun homeschooling and wasn’t eligible to take the program’s onsite classes yet.
Toward the year of my eighth-grade year, I dyed my hair red. It was mainly for my first dance performance, but it was well-received everywhere.
After that point, it began to be a form of self-expression. My dream of being an artist had gone away; I’d just started dance, and I hadn’t discovered writing.
And it still is a form of self-expression.
And my mom didn’t care what I did with it. In fact, she did and still does most of the dyeing for me and dyes her hair as well. But she would say I would have to live with it, whether or not I liked the dye job.
And it’s still true.