An Identity Crisis: Impulse or Nah?

My hair colour needs no introduction; considering it's the title of my blog and insta. I'm ginger- shocker. And anyone who is, or knows someone who is, will know the dialogue that often accompanies this hair colour. If it isn't shouts of "carrot top" "wranger" or "ginge", it's older people you've never met before making you swear to them that you will never dye your hair. This has come from many people in fact; family, my hairdresser, absolute strangers, and often myself.

Truthfully; and you're going to think this is rather conceited or just plain bizarre, but when you have red hair there is a lot more to it than just changing your colour. But it becomes your crutch, your safety blanket, and for me- a large part of my identity. I've grown up with friends who have dyed their hair with almost every season change; be it blue or green or brown or just bleaching it- they've had every colour of the rainbow, and of the natural hair spectrum- and I'm bloody jealous.

Not only do I have to tackle the hurdle of having to convince a hairdresser to actually do it and watching them wince in the mirror even just applying bleach for highlights, but I have to convince myself.

I've wanted brunette hair since I was a kid. I went through a phase of wanting that lilac toned grey that was super cool two years ago, I've wanted blonde and blonde and blonde (and still want it). I've snuck by with a few ombre's, and a recent highlight job- but it's not enough. I'm dying for the beachy golden tones of blonde- so I can live my Hawaiian surfer babe life vicariously through my hair colour. But alongside the countless almosts have come many many identity crises.

Who am I if not the ginger friend? I've got a lot of very curly and voluminous bright orange hair and without that- god, I'll have to start wearing accessories. Once again; conceited comment but as a red-topped-gal I feel as though I rely on the fiery mop for my Thing. Without it, what would I have to add that extra factor to a look?

Especially when my nickname is Brave and I have the word tattooed on me forever- Merida would be so ashamed.

The irony is, my hair colour was never my friend before- I was bullied for it horrendously and because of that, I shudder when called Wranger. I've learnt to love it truthfully and that's my problem. I want the beachy golden hues of blonde hair, but I almost feel I'd miss my hair within the month!

It's got me thinking so much about identifiers. I always hesitate when a Buzzfeed Quiz asks me "what word would your friends use to describe you?". Because how am I supposed to know! I used to chastise people for changing around those they're with, but with age and ever changing social groups, I've realised that there is no way you can be the same person with everyone you know! Yes, stay true to yourself and your real chore characteristics (you'll hardly find me not being sarcastic, no matter the company), but every relationship and interaction will spark a different aspect of yourself and will bring out those traits more than others. I have friendships that light up the nerd in me and have me rambling on about comics and Marvel movies for hours. Others that bring out my academic mind and throw me into debates about morality and colonialism. And some that are purely based on a few drinks and a good night out. And every single one of them is amazing, because they ignite each of my individual traits that essentially make up the whole.

And with this everlasting irony comes my constant thought; I know I'm not my hair. I know I'm a being with intellect, emotion, experiences, love to give.

But I still want to have a total identity meltdown when I'm about to call the salon and book the appointment! So instead I'll keep pinning pictures of the perfect golden blonde to my Hairspo board, and stick to carrot top for a while longer...