My painful first experience.

I'm going to see my hair stylist tomorrow for a hair cut.
Last time I saw him was pretty traumatic.

It wasn't the hair style I didn’t like; I love his job so much that he is the only one I go to. Seriously.

The story was, about 6 months ago I dyed my hair for the first time in my life, which I used to think I never would until 2 years ago. The only reason I thought I'd try this was the fact I started seeing some grey in my hair.

At that point I only wanted thin strands of hair coloured here and there so I asked him not to colour my entire hair.
I was anxious but also exited.

Like I said in the beginning, it was my first experience, which means I didn't know the colouring procedure, at all.
Halfway through the process I began to get this uneasy feeling that something was going terribly wrong.

He dyed my hair in 2 stages - he actually took strands of my hair and breached them, then next he dyed my entire hair in dark brown. It wasn't too different from my original hair colour so what the big deal, most people would say. Yeah I get it.

But it was a big deal. Hair dye can damage your hair and changes the natural texture of it. I was so shocked to see strands of bright red in my dyed chocolate brown hair.

In most people's eyes it must've looked great. However, it was to me like losing my virginity for the second time - oh, I can still recall how my heart ached, I'm telling you, as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

Coming home, the first thing I did that night was wrapping my entire hair with detox clay to rid of as much chemicals in it as I could, cos either the smell or the chemicals, whichever it was, or maybe it was the combination of both was making me feel queasy.

The clay managed to remove most of the smell, and after detoxifying my hair the red bits looked a bit faded but it at least gave me some emotional relief.

The faint scent of the dye still lingered for the next few days which I didn't likebut I eventually moved on from the initial devastation.

Well, perhaps I wasn't that unhappy about the colour itself but my subconscious sort of went into the denial mode - maybe I'm not as adventurous as I think I am. In the past I fantasised myself getting a small tatt somewhere on less obvious part of my body but I realise now I'm the kind of person who come to regret it. Getting a tattoo is different, it's irreversible.

My new look was extremely popular among my workmates, but I don't think I'll ever colour my hair again.

Sometimes a fantasy is best left as a fantasy.