Thoughts I Had While Dying My Hair for the First Time

At 21 years old, I had never dyed my hair before. I had always wanted to; I remember my friends being able to dye their hair in junior high and high school, and I always wished I could too. 

However, my mom always said to me “You have pretty hair, why mess with it!” and I was honestly too afraid to mess with a good thing. 

Last month, I decided to dye my hair black, a color I had always admired on other people. While I was nervous to see how it would turn out, I can definitely say it was a good choice. However, I would be lying if I said I didn’t have my doubts during the process. 

I decided to dye my hair using a temporary dye, that way if I hated the color, it would eventually just wash out and go back to normal. I know — noncommittal as always. The first thought I had once I had the dye in hand though, was, “What if this looks bad?” 

My roommate actually did my hair for me in our living room, so I was lucky enough to not have to do it myself and risk messing it up, because I didn’t know what I was doing. 

When she started putting the hair dye on, I was definitely anxious. As the color started to develop, I thought ‘“This is not the color I wanted. It looks brown, and I wanted black!” However, I was unaware that it would only continue to develop the longer it sat in my hair. So, I had to just sit there, wait patiently and watch “Grey’s Anatomy” with my roommate while I nervously checked my hair in my Snapchat camera. 

“Oh this is DEFINITELY black” was easily the first thought I had while rinsing out my hair. It was so dark that it actually almost stained my bathtub, which made me worried about my apartment’s security deposit (not to worry though, it came out just fine and all is well on that front). As my roommate and I rinsed out my hair, I tried to focus less on the potential stain on my skin and bathtub and more on how it might look once my hair dried. 

My last thought was, “This was the best decision I’ve made all month.” Once I rinsed my hair, dried it with an old t-shirt (I have light colored towels and didn’t wanna stain those, since dye like mine can transfer onto fabric when it’s freshly done) and ran it through with a comb and blowdryer, I almost didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me in the mirror. 

It was like this newer, better version of myself; almost like a version of myself that felt more true to my character, who I am and what I like. 

If you’re thinking of dying your hair, especially dying it black, I say do it — just maybe get it done by a professional so you don’t potentially stain your bathtub in your apartment, right?

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