My perspective on the world has always seemed different than other women. I have never considered myself girly, dainty, or even feminine. I sometimes forget that my husband wants to hold the door open for me because I have always been independent. It is likely because my single father raised me and I had to fend for myself often in a house dominated by men.
People, mostly women, all over the world spend an exorbitant amount of money to look good and feel good about themselves. Pedicures, manicures, facials, makeup, clothing, botox, and the topic of today–hair.
I have to remind myself to get my hair done. I even have to remind myself to brush it on occasion. Some women I know get their hair styled more than once every eighteen months. I know, that’s incredible resolve. (Our dog goes every five weeks as an aside). Last time I went, I asked for, “the same as you did last time.” They told me the last time was three years ago. So yeah, I want that.
It is not that I don’t care about my appearance, it is that I don’t prioritise it. This week was the exception. I have been eyeing up the colours people put in their hair and think, “I could pull that off.” So I added it to my life list, did some research, and spent five and a half hours with a hair artist who developed a custom colour that won’t fade to silver and make me feel and look old. It also won’t last more than a few weeks, so I need to think about my hair again before my three-year deadline.
Sitting in that chair, I reflected on why I don’t do this more often. Pampering myself felt great! I could blame being raised by a man. What did my dad know about female maintenance and how to guide me? Remember my first period? That is a pretty strong case to lay blame.
I could say it is because mothers think of themselves last. I got my hair often styled before I was first pregnant. I had shorter hair then which meant I had to get it taken care of, or I looked ridiculous. I was also working and needed to look good for my day. But that is my justification. Why can’t I still look good for my day even if I am spending it at home?
It appears I have no one to blame but myself for not taking an interest in my appearance while I was taking an interest in our kids. Shame on me. How did I end up so low on the priority list? What message does that send to our kids? Am I overthinking getting my hair done? Maybe this is why I don’t get my hair done? Stop the spiral, Kristine, and move on.
This whole adventure quest before I turn fifty is really about putting me back on the list. So far, me and myself are getting along, and I’m getting dressed to drive the kids to school, applying makeup, and brushing my hair. I know… transformation!
Hair is such a statement of how you feel. In the last years, while struggling with depression, I have felt… pony-taily and don’t give my hair any thought or even show it a brush. Over this past week, I feel fun, happy, and less pony-taily and more, ‘let my freak flag fly’. Beware world, my rosy gold inner girl is on the loose, and she’s pretty badass.
My Turning 50 Like a Boss Tip: Put yourself back on the list. You deserve it.
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