Three Non-Blondes

"Is your hair color natural?"

I used to get that question a lot.  And yes, it was natural, thank you very much.  My mother, sister and I all grew up with blonde hair, but unlike the other two, I got to keep mine well into my thirties.  Okay, well into my early-thirties.  I was proud of that.

My first clue that I was losing my blonde was when I last donated my hair a couple of years ago.  My stylist, after exlaiming over and over how adorable I looked with short hair, suggested that it would look super-cute with "just a few blonde hilights."  And I thought to myself, that's weird, if I'm blonde, why do I need blonde hilights?...

Second clue came after seeing a picture of myself.  With, well, dishwater blonde hair.

"You could get hilights," my coworker suggested as I recounted my new realization.

"I don't really care about the color," I said.  "It's just..."

"A loss," she finished for me. 

Yes, that was it.  I've officially lost what I felt was, even though tiny in size, a part of my identity.  I'm no longer blonde, not really.  And I'm getting older.

For the past five years, I have grown out my hair about a foot past my chin, then lopped it off for donation.  My hair grows fast, it's thick, and well, it's blonde.  I mean, it was.  Last month I was a little over half the way to my third donation- the hardest part, where my hair sits lamely around my neck, and inevitably ends up in a pony tail by 9am.  I wish I could just cut it now, I thought to myself.  And then I thought: I can.  I can always donate again in the future.  And let's face it, a thick, long braid is nice, but its dull shade makes it a bit less of a commodity than it was in years past.

But the winning argument?  I don't have much time these days to put much effort into my appearance.  I need a little something to freshen me up a bit.  So I chopped.

...and might have added a few blonde hilights.