Wow, I really should be ashamed of that title. It’s bad. I know.
Anyway- hello, hello! Happy 2nd day of SPRING! We made it, guys! I don’t know about ya’ll but for me, the last few days have been full of sunshine and general joyfulness because of Spring Break.
I decided to kick off the start of a new season with some change and pampering. It was time to get my hair done.
To be honest, it had almost been a year since I had gotten my hair cut and colored, so as you can imagine- things were looking bleak. To really enhance the tragedy, I went in to the salon with fourth day hair, ya’ll. I wish I could say this is a rare occurrence- but in reality I have just mastered the top knot + dry shampoo combo. I was beyond excited to give my hair some TLC, especially after the journey that these tresses have been on.
After a traumatic hair bleaching experience around the summer after my freshman year of college that left my long healthy hair about three shades of orange-and I swear- pink at the tips, I was all but ready to swear off hair dressers and leave all future hair endeavors to my own devices. I remember crying for about 6 hours straight, and my saint of a mother made an appointment with a sweet girl at a local salon in Alma to dye it back to a safe shade of light brown. The next afternoon I chopped off my long hair into a blunt long bob in the safety of my best friend’s bathroom, ready to do anything to make it feel less like a bundle of burnt hay.
The following months I turned to an almost black brown box dye, because of course I was trying to muffle all hints of bleached orange horror that haunted my past. Little did I know, this was potentially a worse mistake than the original bleaching incident.
Around Spring Break of my sophomore year of college, I decided it was time to brighten things up.
I went to Caroline at Roots Salon (my now tried and true salon that has my whole heart, and the only place I trust in solidarity, to this date A-MEN) with the expectations of leaving with golden face framing highlights. Now anyone who is reading this that has had box died black hair KNOWS that poor 19 year old Aubrey was trippin’. Hard.
I quickly realized the error of my ways and accepted that it was going to be a hot minute until I had the blonde locks that I dreamt of. In the meantime, Caroline began the process and slowly the darkness was lifted bit by bit.
Since then, I have made numerous trips to Ms. Caroline, and every trip she takes my expectations and just blows my mind. This last trip I am proud to say I reached a nice cool ash blonde that after that first trip to Roots back in 2015, I was never really sure I would be able to obtain.
*Single tear* Anything is possible.
It may seem strange to be writing a post about hair. But let me tell you. This was a journey. And I am proud. Let me have my moment.
I’m going to go ahead and post some pictures of my hair timeline, in case you’re curious as to why I am so proud of where I am now in terms of hair. Maybe you’ll cut me some slack.
And all this being said, dreams really do come true with patience, Olaplex, and a lot of dry shampoo.
Okay kids, go soak up some sunshine. Drink some lemonade. Enjoy your spring break! And for the love of all things good, stay away from black box dye.