When Trump got "elected" president, I was really mad. I mean, I felt a ton of emotions. Fear, despair, nausea, anxiety, depression, etc., but I cannot understate the rage that I felt underneath it all. Donald Trump is President of the United States? Like, that jerk from The Apprentice was elected to the highest office in the land? Mr. Bankruptcy? Mr. Adultery? That guy? He's doing what now? Oh. Okay.
Look, if someone as woefully mediocre, maladjusted, incompetent, and gross as DJT can be President, then I'm officially overqualified for my wildest dreams. Seriously. Here I am believing that there is some ladder to climb, some proper hoop to jump in, some door to wait to open - and Trump installed a tacky gold elevator and went all the way up. Shenanigans.
I'm the daughter of asylees - my parents literally petitioned the U.S. government to save their lives and, by grace of someone compassionate, my parents stayed in the country. So everything they have, they earned here. They had to go through the system to secure a very modest living for their family. We were always okay, but my parents always had to work really hard-- something that the current Commander-in-Chief could never comprehend. As kids, we were all taught in school that we are supposed to get good grades, get into good schools, get good jobs, and stand on our own two feet in order to make it in this country. In order to achieve "the American dream", to achieve respectability. I folded myself up, straightened my hair, watched my language, and toed the line that America told me I had to. Suddenly, though, those rules were thrown out the window, mocked even, when an incompetent, spoiled little turd set his eye of Sauron on the White House.
He's a terrible person, openly, and he's received only praise for it. So I decided that I get to be me, too. The person that I am, no matter how weird or out there, could never be as bad as a Nazi-sympathizing president
I went to my hair stylist and told her to take my jet black hair to blue. Boom.
When I hopped out of the salon chair, I felt unleashed. Liberated. Free. This is how I'm going to fight this new wave of fascism: with docs, righteous indignation, and bright blue hair.
It is kind of fascinating what a relatively simple change can do to a person. As someone who has struggled for years and years with body image issues, it was a little intimidating at first to have so much attention drawn to myself with my new hair. I certainly didn't prepare for that aspect of my new hair. It was really nice to get compliments when I first went blue -- but it was also quite a social experiment in objectification. Some people really can't keep their hands to themselves and feel entitled to physically touching - one girl on the Ocean City boardwalk even going so far as to sticking all of her fingers in my hair, grabbing several strands, and grazing my scalp. Ew. At the bar, on the metro, on the street - I was the subject of lots of eyes and way too many hands. After a while, it really began to overwhelm me and I was tired of being so seen. Way to kill the fun, humans. I was really liking the blue, but I wondered if another color would invite less weird side effects.
So I went red.
The upkeep of this hair tests my patience and commitment to self-care constantly. Red really does fade a lot quicker than most colors so if you're not on top of it, you'll have to deal with a constantly faded, vaguely red monstrosity. But my aversion to faded hair has forced me to dedicate a certain amount of time every week on nothing but my vanity, my fulfillment, my body. Because of that, I've resisted my natural tendency to be lazy and throw in the towel, head back to black hair. It's forced me to concentrate on my own care in ways I never would have held myself accountable to.
It's officially been a year now since my hair has evolved past its natural hair color. I've enjoyed this experience so much, and appreciate how caring for my hair has helped me to fall in love with myself. In one year, I've reclaimed some of my precious energy for myself.
After years and years of scattering my political and cultural critiques all across social media, I've decided it makes sense to have a hub for all of my thoughts to live. Thus, a blog is born.
I've been published for online publications in the past but a blog seems different. No limits - just my thoughts and feelings (I have a lot of feelings.)
This blog will generally consist of rants on sociopolitics, reproductive justice, mental health, and beauty standards - with selfies and style tips thrown in too.
This is a dark time in history and a lot of people are really scared -- for good reason. We have to hold true to our values and fight back but we must also experience joy and self-care. I aim to make this space a refuge where we can talk about politics and then heal. Together.
Thanks for reading and be on the lookout for more.