If you're anything like me, you've felt self conscious about your appearance at some point. You probably spend inordinate amounts of time in front of the mirror every morning, giving up an average of 5 days a year to make sure you look like your "best self," and you are not alone. Most of us care about the way we look; we are encouraged to stay within the mold of conventional beauty, and while striving toward that standard can be stressful, it's often less difficult than accepting ourselves as beautiful even with our imperfections.
In a lot of ways, college can make it hard for us to consider ourselves beautiful. Living in a building with hundreds of beautiful women, most of whom have great style, makes for some stiff competition. That's why I try not to compete at all, but to dress and behave to make myself feel beautiful and not to impress anyone else.
With that in mind, I decided to try something I'd admired on others for a long time. Inspired by gorgeous pictures of brilliantly colored hair, I consulted a friend experienced with dying hair and got the bleach and dye, which I put on my desk...and then didn't pick them up again for three months. Every time my aforementioned friend offered to do the deed, I found some excuse for why I couldn't dye my hair yet--I had too much homework, I had a choir tour coming up, I was going home for break and didn't want to startle my parents. I never told her the real reason I was putting it off: I was scared. I had fought so hard to convince myself I am beautiful just the way I was. If I changed something--if I changed my hair, one of my favorite physical attributes--would that also change the way I viewed myself? The risk seemed too great.
At least, it seemed too great until this week. While talking to a friend, I mentioned that I was thinking of dying my hair blue, and he begged me not to, implying that I wouldn't be pretty anymore if I did. It was a splash of cold water in my face. I said to myself, "Screw it, I'm going to do this thing, and I'm going to be beautiful afterward, because my beauty is not determined by the color of my hair." And so I dyed part of my hair blue.
From this experience, I learned that sometimes the only way to overcome silly fears is to face them head on, embrace them, and then release them as fond memories. I was scared of changing my hair right up until I saw the finished product, but now I realize just how ridiculous that fear was. I also learned that the only opinion that matters is my own. Some of my friends were supportive and encouraging, which I appreciate a lot. But if I only cared about other people's opinions, I would be devastated by the friend who told me, "It doesn't look TOO bad." It's fine for other people to have opinions about it, but what really matters is my opinion, and I'm happy not only with the way it looks but also that I got up the guts to actually do it. Furthermore, I learned that though people have noticed I look a little different, they still see me as the same person I've always been. My personality, beauty, and worth is not dependent on my physical appearance. Those will stay the same whether my hair is blonde or blue, so I might as well celebrate the way I look (and maybe have some fun with funky colors) and focus on developing the qualities that will survive every haircut and fashion trend.
The last thing I learned it that it can be really beneficial to get outside my comfort zone once in awhile. Not only is it liberating, but it can reveal some valuable truths about life. So I challenge you to break out of your routine. If you're out of ideas about how to do that, you might consider dying your hair blue and see what you learn.
