Your mom still has your little strands of hair from your first haircut. They are yellow-blonde or dark brown or vibrant red. You remember it –– standing in the bathtub while mom or dad snipped away your very first hairs, cutting bangs that you would grow to loathe, but it was cute for the time. This is your natural hair in all its glory, your “God-given” color seen for the very first time.
Then school begins. Kids in buzz cuts and pigtails line the school’s hallways. Your mom did your hair today –– a ponytail with a sparkly bow from Justice bounces about as you make your very first friends (who aren’t your siblings). And then, suddenly, while waiting for the bus to come, one says, “I know how to braid,” and it changes everything you thought you knew about what you can do with your hair. You start coming to school with your hair down and a hairbrush in your backpack so that at recess your friend can throw your hair into a “Katniss braid” that will impress everyone in gym class. You think, my hair has never looked better.
As you get older, you begin to stick to one hairstyle. Maybe it’s a ponytail, a clip-in bow or even two French braids every day. You have found what works and what is functional for your elementary school lifestyle. This is what you look best in, why change it?
But what about our hair color –– wouldn’t it be fun to have pink hair? You see friends with ombre-red-Kool-Aid hair and are completely envious. Suddenly, you no longer like the uninteresting color you were born with and take every measure to change it with SunIn, turning your once brown hair orange. But yes, this is something different, this is something cooler.
Heading into high school, you see all the formerly dulling-blonde girls with brighter, blonder hair –– they went to their mom’s hairstylist to get highlights. What is this new and enticing thing called bleach? And how does it make your hair look like real blonde hair? You save up your money and beg your mom’s permission, and she finally says yes when you turn 16. You plop into the hairdresser’s chair with butterflies in your stomach as you await the final product. When she turns you around, you see the fresh blonde highlighting your hair, and it’s the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. You think to yourself, next time, I’ll go even blonder.
Now, walking the halls of high school, you sport your new hair, freshly straightened, and feel that this is the way your hair is supposed to look. You have your salon on speed dial, a bottle of purple shampoo at home and an extra-hot straightener unplugged on your bathroom sink –– what else could you need?
You get your hair done one last time before leaving for college, hoping the brightness will last until Thanksgiving break. But, you didn’t anticipate the hard-water situation of the dorm showers. Your hair becomes brittle, unable to produce the volume it once had. And now, your roots begin to show and the bright blonde fades to yellow. Everything that would help your hair is too expensive for your tired debit card. A claw clip will have to do.
As you get older in college, you start to ask your hairstylist to make your hair more lived-in, to help with the long stints in between appointments. You suddenly realize, as your frontal lobe is fully developing, that the roots that are growing out aren’t so bad –– you might even like the natural color popping out. You decide to make one more appointment with your trusted hairstylist before the end of the summer and say words you never thought you would say: “Let’s go back to my roots.”
The feeling of seeing your hair in its natural color is funny at first –– it doesn’t look like you. But as you practice your different hairstyles on it, you see why this was your original color in the first place. You brush your hair in the mirror, admiring its healthiness and how it complements your features so well, and smile.
We all go through our own hair journeys –– some long and strenuous and others short and tedious. Whatever yours looks like, be thankful for the hair that you started with and the roots you see in the mirror.
What has your hair journey looked like? Let us know by tagging @VALLEYmag on Instagram or X!
