I’m not an expert. I have never considered myself an expert at anything. However, I am a great learner. Maybe I am an expert at learning. Recently, I had a life lesson thrown me into a stupor. I will spare the details for a later post. I spent many days depressed and sad. I needed to figure out how to get out of my depression without turning to medical options. This is where the learning comes in. Learning something new is a great way to focus the mind on something other than sadness and regret. I choose to pull my efforts into the Ukulele! Then I choose the Violin. Most importantly, I choose my hair! It all started with a dye job gone wrong!

Experts say never make any decision under emotional stress. Well they are right! In 2012, I was at the end of my first job after a long unemployment stint. I was working in Hollywood for a production company. I was under a lot of stress. This job was not what I had expected. They were perks; I got to see some very interesting people, tons of celebrities, free lunch, and after a Nike Shoot I got free gear! Nice right? Well it came at a cost. I was determined to conquer the diva attitudes and constant rule changing to master the front desk of this demanding position. Well At the end of my third month, I had a confident feeling this was going to work, I was fired. Now my home life was on a precarious line of destruction as well. Being a newlywed in this economy is very difficult. I didn’t think we were going to make it. So losing my job, and almost losing my marriage made we want to control something in my life. Unfortunately, I always seek control through my hair. Since I couldn’t stand the sight of my husband at this time, I decided to stay at my mom’s house to clear my head and plan a strategy. My birthday was coming up and it was a big one. I was turning 39. I was growing out a cut into a nice sized fro. I had installed box braid the week before I was let go. So my hair was about nose length in the front and inches away from shoulder length on the sides and back. Yet, I wanted a style that would reflect my new status of impending Woman hood. After all I felt a woman of 39 should have a haircut that reflected this. Plus I just didn’t want to sit and braid it again. So, I went into my mother’s bathroom and with a pair of dull scissors I chopped my 6 inches down to 1 inch. By the time I finished I regretted the hasty decision immediately.

My husband called me the following week and said that he had made an appointment with a marriage counselor to disgust our marriage. We had a ton of issues connected to our past. We decided that instead of throwing everything away we needed to work on ourselves so we can come together. I felt better, unemployed but better. I looked at my new cut and decided that I needed to do something to soften it up. I have always wanted red hair! Red Hair on black people is so unusual and beautiful. I decided to take the plunge and dye my inch long hair red. Went to the beauty supply store and go some Clairol Textures and Tones and 30 minutes later, I was a red head! I loved it. I was coppery and beautiful! I decided to do new headshots and everything! Going short and red made me feel confidant and avant garde! I walked around and embraced the stares! However my Choir director for a group I sang with did not like it. He is very old school and equates Long hair with Beauty. He said I looked mannish! I was insulted, but chalked it up to his antiquated ways! I was not wigging my head for his show! My usual plan when I cut and colour my hair has always been this; Wash, condition, style with gel. As my hair grows out I trim off the colour to my natural colour. Occasionally, I will deep condition my hair. This has worked for me in the past. My hair grew out and all was fine. This time, something terrible happened. My hair was not growing, it was breaking! Breaking terribly! I began seeing split ends so bad that it looks as if I had a head full of tree branches! I was devastated! Later that year, I was cast in the chorus of an opera in Santa Barbara. The costume department wanted me to wear a straw hat on top of my natural hair. What I knew from my mother is, never wear a hat that would rip your hair out of your scalp. I decided to wear a wig plus the hat instead. This helped my hair to rest during the production. By the end of the run, I had a good inch of new growth on top of the two inches. I had stopped wearing gel, and applied Shea Moisture cream instead. This helped a little, but the texture of my hair was so rough and brittle. I thought if I get four inches, I could put braids in and let it rest even more. This didn’t work; I had no other choice but to do another big chop. Lesson Learned? Stay away from major styling decisions under emotional stress! Don’t cut your hair with dull scissors!