Hairdresser: expectation versus reality

The week after your vacation is the worst. The after holiday blues making you question your life are terrifying. While you are recharged and have a fresh mind, that fresh mind goes and explores thoughts and gives you perspective.

This makes it extra challenging to find the motivation to spend 8-9 hours a day in a loud open office environment. Of course I miss my people and sorta like my job but it is just that space… getting back into the drill takes some time. I cannot be the only one who has this. Once you are in the flow, hustling is no problem. Never was…

The morning routine is particularly challenging.

In the end, let’s be real people do judge you especially in an office environment. I wanted to show some effort out of respect, mainly for myself.

The first day back at the office I wanted to do my hair but I just could not. I was able to do my make up though. A+ for effort. Also, I have been in a love-hate relationship with my hair lately.

Finding the right hairdresser who speaks your language is a challenge. I don’t mean language in the sense of human communication, I mean it more in the sense of translating the potential you see in your hair into reality that suits YOU through a hairdresser kind of language sharing.  

Well in this case, my hairdresser spoke neither English nor Turkish well, she was Ukrainian so that was also a bit of a hassle but hey we are living in the age of visualized communications so I had my images ready, thank you Pinterest.

Okay let me try and organize my thoughts….

Long story long, in the past weeks, I was in Turkey visiting my family.

Usually, I get my hair done there because I trust the hairdressers more and I don’t want to eat plain pasta for a month. That stuff is hella expensive in the Netherlands.

My mom, her friend, and her friend’s daughter have been to this one salon for cuts, coloring, and blow drying.

I have seen the results, all beautiful.

This Ukrainian self-made woman moved from her home country for a better future for her and her family to Antalya. She opened a salon and was doing good business, much respect.

Once you have found a good hairdresser based on all the recommendations around you with solid proof, you take the plunge. I don’t expect everybody to understand this but my hair is my precious. It holds so much of my character, personality, and self-confidence. Yes, these protein filaments growing from follicles on my head give me strength. I know some of you are going to throw the inner beauty argument but no thanks, I gained inner strength from this outer element. Also I am fully aware that there are people who have to say goodbye to their hair due to health problems and I am so sorry for what you have to go through, and wish you all the strength. This is also why I am growing my hair I might want to donate it one day for a good cause, if you have any recommendations on that please do share.

For now, I wanted a haircut and some highlights for a summer beach look.

I thought to myself this cannot be too complicated as I sat in the salon chair, showing her the images for the cut and the highlight style I wanted to go for. The image showing the cut had Ombre; I did my utmost best to explain that I did not want that hair coloring but I wanted the cut. She said, ‘I will make hair very natural’ I smiled and said yes please proceeding to show the coloring I wanted for my highlights. She again said ‘I will make hair very natural’.  Here I should have known there was a red flag. You don’t show two different coloring styles, there is a 50% chance she is going to mix them up … but of course I can only think of this now.

I remember giving her explanations and instructions so clearly and so detailed that I thought oh gosch a 5 year old could understand this, hope she does not think I am undermining her capabilities.

As she was examining my hair, I saw myself tucked in a chair through the mirror of the salon thinking I could become an expectations versus reality meme. At one point, you have to give control away completely and hope for the best.

As I turned into an alien rasta head with all the tin foil on my head, I thought okay she is putting some highlights in there. For the results, I had to wait. Whilst waiting she was telling me about all her travel adventures from a Sade concert in Antwerp to enjoying Rio’s night clubs.

My respect for how much this woman lived and still continues to live grew.

Once the coloring was done and she washed it off, I saw that she had given me the unnatural Ombre. FUCK MY LIFE.

With all the respect I had built within the past hour, I smiled and only could say nice.

It was not bad but it was also not what I wanted.

My mom tried to comfort me as the hairdresser blow dried my hair but she saw it in my eyes.

When we left the hairdresser said if you change your mind and want to change please come back I want you to be happy.

Normally I would even say this is unacceptable and ask for an immediate solution but I just could not tell her it was not what I wanted.

I decided to take a day or two …

Of course, I ended up going back.

This time shit hit the fan.

I had orange in my fucking hair (see: featured image).

I only wanted some natural highlights and mind you that I had given her new photos to show what I wanted in this rescue operation.

Again, I could not speak up. I could not speak up. I choked.

For some reason, I kept thinking it was my fault.

I have this inherent guilt and it was making its way in this occasion as well.

I wasn’t raised particularly religious but feeling guilt constantly is one of my struggles.

I didn’t get hysterical, but my self-confidence and patience had left the building.

My mom said she would fix it and so she did.

The second rescue operation was a success, my mom dyed my hair back to a nice chocolate color, close to my original brunette. Now I had subtle undertone highlights coming through and I was satisfied with the rusty look.

God bless her, as usual she restored my self-confidence, both emotionally and physically.

The haircut was fine …

Speaking up is not easy when you know someone is really trying their best for you. However, when you pay for a service you should get what you ask for and this is something I struggle with.

Now while enjoying my damaged yet awesome hair, I am trying to get it back to ‘normal’ by using the Organix Thick & Full Biotin & Collagen shampoo (worth every cent) and a weekly hair mask. My weekly hair mask was a gem shared by the exact same hairdresser with my mother.

It contains evin (a vitamine E solution with olive oil), bepanthen (a 2ml solution containing a factor of vitamin B stimulating follicles), and bemiks kompoze (again another solution containing a lot of vitamins). All purchased at a proper pharmacy. So far, I am enjoying this new chocolate, brunette, rusty look.

Trusting others and maintenance are exhausting.

My original hair, my desired/expected hair are not there anymore but I like the unexpected reality … 

Note: by the time I was able to finish this piece I already had gotten into the drill, see it goes fast.

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