my hairdresser loves me. it's not everyday that she get to dye somebody's here pink-ish. or bright red-ish. i love her enthousiasm. her drive to make it the way i have it in mind. we discuss, choose & go for it. at first she was a bit holding back. playing safe. but she knows now i won't freak out if my hair turns out too bright. (i love bright). or too red-ish (yes i love red).
Ruben thinks i'm a nutcase, but he doesn't know any better since he was born. Sanne thinks i'm kinda cool.
ofcourse i do get comments. all. the. time. about my hair, but also about my shiny new bright purple beachcruiser (bike), with rainbow colored crocheted garland on my basket, flowery dresses and green cowboy boots. there's always somebody saying something about my appearance. and i do not give a shit. i laugh. when they are nice, i have no problem at all. but there are some.... i just pull up my middlefinger in my head (yes, i have that ability to do so) and think BOOYAH. i really really feel ME in those colors, those dresses, that bike, big rings and rainbow color EVERYWHERE.
Sanne is asking questions lately. about how i feel, what i think when other people make comments. i just try to explain to her, that mom maybe a bit extreme in some way, but i dress and look the way i feel & want to look. FOR ME. i feel happy when i look in the mirror. yes i dare to say. i really do feel happy. i explain to her that in the end the most important thing, and also the only thing that matters is how SHE feels about herself. nobody but SHE has control over her feelings. she has to feel good about the way she dresses (yes, she dresses herself since she could walk, very very picky about her clothes, and i'm so okay with that. why battle over it? ofcourse sometimes i think whhaaaaaa cool combination chick. but it's her style. her layering of crazy paterns. and her feeling of feeling good in those clothes. who the f*ck am i to tell her to dress something i probably would feel like would be 'accepted'. not gonna happen. not ever ever. never.
so all you need to do birdies, is pull up that middle finger IN YOUR HEAD, otherwise you would look a bit agressive, and think to yourself: BOOYAH! it's my life.
and life is good. pink-ish hair rock.