What’s Hiding Behind Your Hair Dye?

I decided to write this post after a really interesting conversation that I had with my mother. I’m going to share a little bit about my thoughts and feelings, but I’d really welcome you to chip in – particularly if you like colouring your hair!

I am, by true definition, a natural dark brunette. I’d never had any objections to my natural hair colour until I hit my teens and twenties. Suddenly, my naturally thick, brown, straight hair was boring and I wanted to be something different, so I had it layered and dyed it a deep cherry red.

The reason for the colour change was simple. So many people thought of me as nice, sweet and innocent that I wanted a change, I wanted to be noticed for me, the slightly goth/rock chick. I started wearing more rockabilly t-shirts and darker eyeshadow, and people did perceive me differently. I was more feisty and rebellious too – perfect!

But hair dye takes work, it takes maintenance, and eventually, I grew out of love with it. Not only that, but navy blue, my favourite colour on me, just looked comical with my red hair on days when I had to be sensible. To me, I looked like an oversized Union Jack!

So I decided, I’m letting my hair go back to brunette.

As I walked through the woods, my mother and I discussed my decision;

“I think I was doing it for the attention, I wanted to be noticed, I wanted people not to see me as boring,” I said painfully. That was the truth, if you don’t have wild hair, quite often, some people regard you as a bit prudent.

My Mum laughed, “maybe I’ve been doing that, too!”

My Mum sports some rather eccentric rainbow coloured hair. She’d promised my dying father that she would live a crazy and colourful life, and her hair was a testament to that. But was it, really? She grimaced and finally spoke, “I think I was hiding the pain inside”.

You see, I won’t judge anyone for anything they decide to do in life. If you’re 100% certain on a decision, go for it! But before you do, please spend a week or two asking yourself as to the reason why?

Why do you want or need crazy hair? A new tattoo? A new piercing? What are you trying to achieve?

I have nothing against anyone who wants to try something wild and whacky to feel “more like themselves”, a tattoo to commemorate a personal achievement or a piercing to accentuate a body feature, but if you’re doing it for anything else, why do you think it will fix things?

I’m not a therapist and so I can’t and won’t label or diagnose anyone. This is where I am inviting you to chip in and share with me your stories. Have you ever dyed your hair a crazy colour? Now dig deep, what was your real reason for doing it?

I look forward to reading your comments!

Until next time,

Stay safe & have fun,

Helen xx

Kiky With A Twist Newsletter Logo

Wait, let's be friends!

Sign-up today and receive my newsletter in your inbox twice a month. I won't send you any unwanted spam mail, pinky promise!

Still don't believe me? Click here to read my Spam Free Guarantee.

8 thoughts on “What’s Hiding Behind Your Hair Dye?

  1. For me personally I’m gonna have to disagree. I have time through a long period of ill health and my hair feels like I’m part of my body that I have control. Also as a woman of colour I don’t actully dye my hair I weave or braid all different colours in my hair ( I currently have a blue/green weave in)
    I just love playing with my hair and having different colours and lengths and styles while I desperately try and convince my natural hair it wants to grow.
    But I do understand where you are coming from. Sometimes just a change of hair colour can make you feel stronger and more confident

    1. That sounds really beautiful and I’m so sorry to hear about your struggles with ill health. I used to style my hair a lot until my anxiety really took hold. It’s really interesting and having spoken to different people, there are a lot of different (and very interesting!) views. I hope your health improves soon and I hope you keep finding plenty more fun and colourful things to do with your hair!

      1. My health is something that is never going to ever get better and I’m staring down the barrel of surgery in my not to distant future. But it is what it is and can’t be helped. I think my nurses love me going to hospital as they never know what I’m going to look like. In some ways my hair does help me find confidence to leave the house. ( love a bit of positivity For strangers)
        But interestingly I have a friend who has trrible anxiety and she always dyes he hair all kind of colours and says it’s her mask to be able to get out into the world but everyone is very different.
        Thank you for your comment
        And I love your blog

      2. I’m so sorry to hear that. I was constantly in and out of I’m hospital myself in my young years. I think they eventually decided that there wasn’t much they could do for me but let me go and hope for the best, and now I just pootle along and ask for help as and when I need it. I think it’s interesting though that adversity can change us, you develop a kind of attitude towards it. I myself get asked a lot how I keep going in spite of my chronic pain and anxiety. I think, like you’ve said (and like my father used to say), you can laugh or you can cry. What you decide determines how well you will cope. Interestingly enough, I did dress up as a kind of Harley Quinn take on Mrs Claus for Christmas last year, with red and green tipped pigtails. It was my way of hiding the pain I was facing inside for knowing that my Dad had cancer.

        Thankyou, you are too kind. I will be sure to visit your blog when I’m back on my computer tomorrow.

      3. I hear you with cronic pain a good day is when I’m in a little bit of pain but I also have a rear condition that went unnotied for 35 yep 35 years so now they look at me like a medical miracle which is really boring now. And makes me feel like a bit of a freak ( maybe thats why I love crazy hair)
        I agree that adversity can change us I had a great aunt who came over just after windrush and at use to say to me child of I can survive what I did ( none of what she went through was good at all and she was invited here as a trained nurse) then anything can be got though with grit and determination. But I completely agree with what your dad says.
        I always get asked how I’m always smiling even though my Health is a sack of shit. To which I have no answer .
        Omg that outfit sounds amazing I but you looked great. But I know exactly how you feel me and my dad are really close and he also has cancer and it’s the worst feeling. Like you want to curl up in a ball but also that what I’m going through is nothing and my world will implode if my dad dosent make it.
        I send love and positive energy to you and your dad.

        I honestly haven’t shown my blog any love in the longest. So it’s a bit old now.

      4. The best one is when I’m completely fine and all of a sudden I’m jumping around screaming in pain because of cramps and spasms, it always livens up a family gathering when you pull that little spectacle. 35 years? That’s insane. I thought having not been recognised as not being normal for 7 years was bad enough. I can relate to the medical miracle, I’ve pulled a few stunts in my time so anything new I just shrug now and say I didn’t fancy one of the more common options. The leukaemia my Dad had (plasma cell leukaemia) affects an estimated one in a million – sometimes it’s more fun to be the odd bod in the room!
        Your aunt sounds like a fantastic lady and a real inspiration. It’s people like that that lead a lasting impression on your life.
        My usual answer is my Dad’s take in an old Danish proverb, “laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone”. It’s true, if you keep smiling and laugh at the shit, people want to be around you for longer. My mother now even defines me less as “what will she do next?” crazy and more “what the fuck has she done now?” crazy. That’s a way to be remembered!
        Unfortunately I lost my Dad on 7th March last year. He passed in the ICU with my mother and brother at his bedside, I couldn’t be there. It has been the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to go through but you do go on. At best, your Dad will recover and at worst somehow you find the strength to go on as his legacy. I will keep my fingers tightly crossed for you that it’s the former and your Dad makes a full and speedy recovery.

        You should! I struggle sometimes but I try to plan out at least a week or two in advance. My followers are all great and give me so much inspiration for future posts.

      5. I have those moments or my family when we are all together make bets on how long it takes me to fall over or just start twitching. Yep I’ve had a few little problems with my kidney over the years or the odd infection here and there they told it it was fine till it really wasn’t.
        Yep my aunt was the most amazing woman who taught me a lot about life and told me stories about the family. I still catch myslef using her sayings all the time.

        I’m so so sorry about your dad I can only imagine how painful it was espically not being able to n there at the end. You sound like you had an amazing relationship and were close And I bet you have some amazing memories that you cherish. It really can be much better being the the odd bod in the room it can make you feel special . I must admit yeah people do stay around longer if your happier but that dosent stop them wanting yiu to be normal (whatever that is).
        It sounds like you and your mum got closer after your dad’s passing and it sounds like you have a special relationship.

        I’m trying to stay positive about my dad he is doing well it was 2 years ago he was diagnosed and he is still here and fighting. So hopefully he can beat it ( fingers crossed) thank you go the wishes for my dad.

        Well I first started i just wanted somewhere to be able to write and hone some of my writing skills. But lately as I have been thinking I want to change it direction as I get further on my BDSM journey. But I’m still considering it. I’m still feeling a bit torn

      6. Oh yes, I struggle with amaxophobia (you might have read that post?) and my husband calls it “going funny”. If I start groaning and freaking out in the car, he’ll just look at me and say “are you going funny again?”, unless it’s really bad, in which case he’ll hold me. Oh yes, my parents were told I was possibly autistic by a school dinner lady. I had glue ear and anxiety, once I was fitted with grommets at 7 years old and given a social worker to help with my confidence there was no shutting me up! Haha.

        Dad and I were inseparable and I have his eyebrows. I used to hate them, now I take pride in them and in grooming them. He told his brother after a particularly bad argument “every time you look in the mirror, you’ll see me”. When I look in the mirror I do see my Dad and it makes me so proud, he was such an inspiration for resilience, determination and wit.
        Unfortunately, Mum and I have never been close. She’s held on to the autism suggestion even to this day, even though nobody has suggested it since. The last doctor I saw about it dismissed it entirely and said “if you’re autistic then I’m blind and got my degree from a playset”. The anxiety is confirmed and diagnosed, but not autism. Unfortunately Mum was always focused on getting that diagnosis rathet than loving me for me, so it pushed us apart. Even in 2016, noted on my medical records that she’d called my new doctor and said that I had possible autism, but that’s been the only suggestion of it medically, ever.

        2 years is very good. Some people can manage for years on medication. Unfortunately for my father, what they thought was a trapped nerve in the neck was Stage 3 Multiple Myeloma which became plasma cell leukaemia as soon as they started treating it. They did all they could for him but he developed sepsis at that point and it was a choice between prolonging his life and in which case he would need constant dialysis and may never wake from a vegetative state or saying our goodbyes. True to the word, sometimes the hardest part of loving someone is knowing when to let go. In the past 3 deaths in my family, I have always led the hearse in to the church or crematorium and my brother has always been a pall bearer. To me, it’s like a last right for our loved ones to have someone close lead them to their final resting place, and my father was to be no exception. The 500 metre walk hurt me a lot, but I was determined to do it.

        Write what you want to write as you want to write it, that was the advice I was given here very recently. I was going to close Ten Shades & Me down but since making it a mix of daily life, reviews, recipes and more, things have been a lot better. Sources like Unsplash and Pexels can really help to add some colour, too. Just take a deep breath and have fun with it.

Leave a Reply