Once you go black..

I have been a red head over half my life now. It's a choice made over and over- from auburn to almost blondish red. I read a book about my astrological sign of Cancer that told me I should likely have red hair and I agree. The same book also told me would likely have olive skin- check! ..and an ample bosom, which was dumb.. and something about pearls, also dumb. But I digress. I have relatives that were lucky enough to grab onto the gene. Even one grandfather was nicknamed "Red". I held a longing for red locks since I was small. Playing with Barbies in my youth, I was thrilled when Midge came out. More specifically, "Bride Midge". I had never had a bride doll before, but this one had red hair and was (therefore) a must have. I even found my way into owning one issue of Spiderman- the one with Peter and (red haired) Mary Jane on the cover dressed in bridal wear. Based on those two examples alone, you may not be surprised that my like for fiery locks spread into my love interest. One of my first crushes was on the boy next door.. well, the house behind my parents after you hop a fence. I was smitten yet so little that I didn't even know what it was I was feeling, but heartbreak set in when girls were suddenly "yucky" and I pawned off onto his younger sister. In elementary school I found another red haired crush. Less freckled and his face wasn't as red-toned, but pale. The closest I ever got to him was snapping a picture that was taken at a Halloween parade around the school. I still recall he was wearing all black. I guess he was a burglar.. of my little heart.
When I was a teenager, I got my first box of hair dye. My friend took dorked out pictures of me holding signs that read "before", "during" and "after". It was the beginning of a love affair, but unlike Viagra, no pills have been invented for red hair to grow on demand. And while female friends with curly red fros have been rockstars in my life, "ginger males" have fallen flat.  The instant charm I once automatically labeled them with eventually died and new labels of "likely an idiot" and "they all really just look the same" have taken their place. Thankfully, like I said, the red-haired women have always been strong and awesome. I have had the motto for a while now that "I support all red heads- real and fictional." (And female, of course.) I dare you to try and make a case against Blossom from the Power Puff Girls or Willow from Buffy as not rock'n chicks. Or my friends Samantha and Lindsay- I dare you! They kick major ass!
With all this happiness jonesing over a shiny strawberry top, why would I even be tempted to switch over to the dark side? Especially when I have invented my own fears.. It all started when I bought my first black wig. I had worn wigs before, but my blue one was worn the most. It was a super-short angeled cut with curved baby bangs. The black wig was a long bob with bangs that touched the tops of my eye brows. I was doing a lot of photography at the time and I had many a photo shoot with vintage 40's dresses and also just wore it out for a change up. Whenever I wore it though, I noticed a difference in how I felt.. More serious, catty, what's the word I am looking for? Ah, yes- bitchy. I didn't slap people or throw rocks at small children, but I felt a persona shift. (I think the actress part of my brain may have been tricked.) But when the wig was off, the persona party ended. When the first black wig was getting worn and ugly, I got another. Same style, but a better quality wig. Same effect though. I would get a power surge and I could get mean in some people's company. Mostly just to razz them, but like Mary Poppins there was a dark edge to me and my choice of words.
Now, in all fairness, the last wig I owned was honey blonde with deep purple highlights, layers and long bangs. That too gave me a persona shift. Perhaps a little more sarcastic.. maybe? My other concern with getting my black on for reals has to do with color therapy. I worry that spending each day coated in space black locks will bring me down vs. feeling lighter with my ruby sheen 24/7. Overall, this is something I ponder from time to time. Sometimes, I use these fears as possible motivators. Like when I feel like everyone and my life is kicking me around and I want to start fresh. I think that maybe I should "black-up" and dye in some battle mode hair. My life, my way- it's a brand new and black-a-dee black day! .. But I don't. Never have.
And that time has cycled round again. So I ponder today if changing my hair will change my life.. or at least make me a better life coach for myself? I pondered and pondered this. I thought of all the non-bitchy women I know who have long kept up a polished black mane (real or created). And I think of some of my favorite (kind) tv vixens whose smile lit up their night spun hair. I wonder if I can take the plunge too? I thought this all the way to the store and as I stared at box after coloring box that called out to me. I came home and unpacked my bag of as much a risk as I am willing to take. My very light auburn framed face will be replaced with some intense copper coloring and notes of luscious bordeaux.  A compromise to make some change, but not to live surrounded by soft strands of permanent midnight.

.. at least not yet.