Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow.

Once again, I've just cut all of my hair off. This is a pattern with me. I get to a point in my turbulent life when I need a change and the first thing I turn to is my hair. I'm a wanderlust changing paths from day to day and my hairstyle follows my mood, wherever it may go.

I had a mushroom cut until the age of about 6 years old. I can still remember the day when a kindergarten classmate asked me if I was a boy or a girl. As you can imagine this was quite a traumatizing experience for me so I freaked out on my haircut and wanted nothing more to do with mushroom shaped hairdo's. My mom took me to the hairdresser as a result of this boy/girl comment, and it was just a few days before I was going to see Phantom of the Opera with my class. The mushroom cut turned into a hideous pixie cut that made me look even more like an androgynous little being. I was so upset that I convinced myself that the Phantom from the play would be looking into the crowd while onstage, spot me due to the hair, and burst out laughing while pointing directly at me. I cried myself to sleep that night. I've blocked the rest of my childhood haircut experiences out of my memory.

The teenage years were filled with angst and rebellion. I went through short hair, long hair, green hair, red hair, yellow hair, purple hair and attempted dreads. When I was 19 I got extensions. My hair was about 2.5 feet long, and it was all braided with added-in fake hair. It weighed about 30lbs, but it was cool. I used to wear it up in a massive bun and strut down the street like I was some kind of awesome exotic person from another country. I really just looked like some white Canadian girl wanting to have an excess amount of hair. I found a picture of myself the other day with this mass of braids on my head and it truly looked ridiculous. It took about 10 hours to get the braids done, cost me over $200, and it lasted for about 2 months before I actually started to have neck pain from the weight of it all. I took them out and I was free once again.

In my second year of university I started to date a guy who broke up with me after two months. My reaction was to break up with my hair. I went into my room after the boyfriend talk, looked in the mirror, took the scissors out and chopped off my ponytail. Two hours later I was in the salon being tisk tisked by my hairdresser. She fixed it and made it look awesome. The next day I had a class with the ex boyfriend and he got to take a good long hard look at the new me. Ha!

In 2008 I went to Iceland on a little trip and I immediately fell in love with the platinum hair blue eyed look that all the ladies were sporting. They are a stunningly beautiful people and if I couldn't have the blue eyes I was going to get that hair. I got back to Toronto 3 weeks later, went to the hairdresser, got my hair coloured platinum blonde and cut it just below my chin. I did this without warning anyone, including my boyfriend at the time. There it was! That beautiful platinum colour! I loved it...for about 3 months. Then my roots started to grow and my hair started to break and I started to want to shave my head. I killed my hair with chemicals, it was dead. I sucked the life right out of it and the maintenance was overwhelming. I dyed it back to brown and until two days ago I hadn't cut it in a year. Completely unacceptable.

Two days ago I was ashamed to take my hair out of the elastic it had been hiding in for a year. Two days ago I was growing it and it was well passed my shoulders. Two days ago my hairdresser pulled the elastic out and gasped at how damaged my hair was. She gave me a sharp bob with a little fringe, and I love it. It gave me back the pep in my step and I've actually booked my next hair appointment already. The next time I go I'm cutting it boy short and dying it blonde again.

Sometimes I think the life of my hair is almost more exciting than my actual life. Then I remember that it's a bizarre reflection of the life that I lead. Right now my hair is looking pretty darn good.

It's fun being a girl with guts.