I dyed my hair blue.
Before anyone screams at me about responsibility and adulthood, there’s two factors to remember here: I really, really diluted my dye so I essentially glossed my hair, and this is what I normally look like in public:
I veil in public full time. I don’t show my hair to outsiders if I can at all avoid it.
What difference does it make if my hair’s blue if no one can see it anyway?
One of the things that my burn out and then my weird vacation (because it really was a weird vacation) has shown me is that sometimes you really just have to throw your hands up and say [redacted] it, you have to live sometimes.
It’s just hair, hair can be cut and regrown or overdyed. It doesn’t really matter in the end. If you want to dye your hair, do it. Or dance in the rain, or let yourself heal, or do whatever it is that you’re holding back on.
Because there’s going to be a time when you can’t and I would rather have said that I did it once than regret never having tried.