People constantly question me as to why i insist on destroying my hair with bleach every summer. Same way they question the way i dress, the way i act, even the way i talk. This summers attack on my hair is more important than ever before.
Every person has something that identifies them. That's obvious: everyone is unique, different sizes and shape, different faces, whatever. But everyone has a way to identify themselves - something that reminds them of who they are. The way i dress, the way i act, is my way of cementing, to myself, who i am, where i've come from and where i'm going.
Those who know me well, and i mean truly know me, will know that recently i have been through a fair bit. And the one thing that has scared me about the last month or so, is how i've started to fade away, i've started to lose myself in everything, in anger, hate, tears and numbness.
Something as simple as painting my nails black helped me feel better. Wearing some eyeliner instead of just llowing make up completely. Retrieving my bracelets and my ring, helped make me feel more like me again. I'm not all back yet though. And that worries me somewhat. What has been created in me in the last month?
This is why dying my hair this year is more important - it seems so superficial, but for me it isn't, it's my main way of expressing who i am. Because as much as i loved my May Ball, getting all dressed up, looking at those pictures i don't see me, not completely. I'm not redefined yet; not yet.
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