It's officially the beginning of the end of Phase One.
I'm calling it the long-shaggy-pixie. You can call it whatever you want.
This hairstyle worried Rachel the most. She actually lost sleep over it. I had complete faith in her, though. I also had zero understanding of the color chemistry involved in this kind of transformation. The answer was: several applications, blistered hands (hers), a singed scalp (mine), and several real prayers begging that my hair follicles wouldn't give up and let go.
During the two-day process, I had the privilege of channeling my inner Shaneequa, Carol Brady, and Donald Trump. We were quite afraid, actually.
But the most terrifying times were made fantastic by my support group. They laughed at the right moments, squealed at the right moments, and basically made all the moments feel like the important experience this was meant to be.
L-R: Jenny, Me, and Rachel.
Steff wasn't there day 2, but she was there for the scary day1!
And, Rach has outdone herself. We ended up with a style I'd NEVER have tried before. It's so foreign, and so fun. There are latent pastel highlights hanging on from the pink, purple, and blue past styles. I kind of love them. The only downside to this do, really, is that now no one in my neighborhood waves back to me. I still drive the same car, but apparently, a good portion of people recognize us based on our hairstyle.
I don't feel as naked as I thought I'd feel. I don't feel as elderly as I thought I'd feel. But I don't feel same-old-me, either. This one is definitely different. This will probably be the only few weeks I'm blonde in my whole life, and it's exciting! I can't believe it took me so long to allow myself this experience. It's been one of the most important of my life.