Been sitting here staring at the screen, then I begin to type, then I hit delete, then stare at the screen once again. This is what happens to me when I am holding back. When I worry about other’s opinions of what I am about to write. As I was hitting delete for the twentieth time, I had one of my LIGHTBULB! moments.

This is what woman do in the Salon, everyday. We show them the color swatch book, they gaze adoringly at the red hair swatch, they say “Lets do it!”, then they look around at the other women in the Salon and with a shaking hand and voice to match they say “Ummm, ahh, maybe I should take a look again”. We hand the color swatch book back to them, they flip back to the browns, sigh, and then say “better stick to the usual…what would people think?”.

If you are familiar with my blog, you know I am a firm believer of being your own person, doing what you want and the hell with what others think. Yeah, yeah, I know…I started off today’s tale worrying about the thoughts of others. Give a girl a break would ya? I am a work in progress…and see, I am writing about what I want. Now, back to the tale at hand.

As women (sometimes the gents, but mostly it’s the ladies), we worry far too much about other’s opinions of our hair to our child rearing. Everyday I meet a woman who has a hairstyle she didn’t want, thinks she is too fat to go to the gym, has a hair color she detests, or is buying a product that she hates the smell of. The reason? It’s always the same…fear of what people will think. Don’t get me wrong…no judgment here. I have been that woman, and from time to time I have to keep that old girl at bay. I have had haircuts that made me cry. Hell, forget the gym, at one point I thought I was too fat to walk around the block. I have had hair color that, lets just say, was not me. I have used products that reminded me of a skunk in heat. All because of fear of the opinion’s of others, or fear of upsetting the apple cart.

In the big scheme of life and all it’s mysteries I may not know much, but I know this. It isn’t all about you (hardest pill for yours truly to swallow) and all that matters is YOUR OPINION. Oh…and screw them. Yeah, I said it. Now I have the hair style I want, I no longer think I am too fat to walk around the block, hell, I don’t think I am fat at all. I LOVE my hair color…blonde with dark underneath (so when my  roots show it looks like it’s on purpose…smoke and mirrors my friends…smoke and mirrors) and all my hair products remind me of the beach and the spring. Oh, believe me, I am still told that I should change my hairstyle, usually by someone who hated their own hair. I am told that I could still stand to lose a few, usually by someone who is trying to be skinny for their spouse, instead of being healthy and fit and supporting her husband’s dietary restrictions like yours truly. I am told that my blonde looks fake…well duh…my roots are dark… and I am constantly being told there is something else I should be using for my hair, usually by a rep. trying to bring in a new line,(which is excusable…they are just trying to do their job.).

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a tough road. It’s also one hell of a high road most days, so high I need to strap on an oxygen mask, but it is the road I would choose over any other. It is the road to personal redemption, to happiness, to wanting to look in the mirror at your reflection and liking who is looking back at you, the woman with the rockin’ hairstyle and awesome color.