“Unless we base our sense of identity upon the truth of who we are, it is impossible to attain true happiness.” Brenda Shoshanna

I’ve been colouring my hair red since August of 2013. The reason I started, was purely because a friend said it would look good and I was in the mood for something different. Somehow in the past (almost) eleven years, it became part of me and my routine. It said something without me saying a word. It became my identity.

It was loud, through silence. It kept people away – like a red frog in nature. It protected me and it was mysterious.

When I moved closer to the sun, however, something changed. The sun bleached it and from original red it was turning into shades of orange, pink and blonde. Slightly clownish.

Now I know what you’re thinking. Ansonia – why are we going on about your hair? You don’t brush it, you cut it yourself – surely your hair is not an inspirational story. Unless you’re comparing it to Nina from ‘Fiela se kind’, but that would be pushing it.

Sjjjjt… We’re getting there…

Because of the damage of my new environment, the original idea took way more maintenance. And about 6 months ago, I started listening to people around me. I liked my face with the red halo, but it was becoming 50 shades of lobster. My dad still thinks I have hair the colour of honey – like I did as a little girl. My mom thinks my hair is similar to my brother’s; and I had some other comments of people close to met that was more focused on the unnatural shade of the red.

Now – I don’t care about other peoples’ opinions too much, when it’s contrasting to what I like, unless I start agreeing with them. I am very opinionated myself, but I enjoy being wrong occasionally. The sun and pink shades was evident.

My hair was a Daisy De Melke shade of crazy and the renewal of colour was short-lived. The sun, where I live is as unforgiven as the stoniest of hearts.

So this week – I went brunette. For two main reasons. The damage and upkeep, but more importantly: What is my identity really in?

I constantly say that we must let go of our comfort zone. I can never advise on what I am not willing to do myself.

I cried. A lot. I said goodbye to how I wanted to present myself as. What i thought of when I looked at the hair. What if I’m just a boring wallflower with brown hair? What if there is nothing unique about me? What if the reason people respected me at work was because of my hair colour?

The amount of shit-show with this simple move was worse than an episode of ANTM.

So my question, as I involve all of you in my hair-ball story is the following:

What is your identity in? And if that will be removed tomorrow – what will you have left?

Are you just a wallet – everyone expecting you to pay because the hours you spend slaving away happens to give you a decent salary? Are you just someone that needs to take care of everyone else, but no one to take care of you? Are you the pretender – smiling through each day, but breaking every second weekend? Are you a pretty face that invest in your youth? A mask that pretends to the world, but live a lie every day?

Someone at work once told me that you are, who you believe everyone thinks you are. I understand what he is saying, because we cannot run away from the validation we seek from other people.

However – I rejected it then and I absolutely reject it still. You are, who you know yourself to be. Strengths and weaknesses. And from there – knowing yourself – YOU decide every day to live according to who you want to become.

I’ve lost myself a little bit lately. I wanted to cling to the person I was 11 years ago. The fresh and the spontaneous. The naïve. The dreamer. I fought the change with all my heart. At least you sleep well when you get tired of struggling with yourself and your thoughts each day.

I missed me.

But the change is not too bad. Or at all.

My identity is not in my red hair. It kept people away, but it also sometimes allowed the wrong people in.

Your identity is not in materialistic things or what you think other people expect from you. Another person’s happiness can’t be based on you never changing or changing to their wants and needs. Your happiness is based on one simple choice – do I accept myself, regardless?

It is in knowing who you are with it all stripped away. And from that vantage point – that sense of stability – still sharing your light with others.

Will I miss my red hair? Absolutely. Will I get comments that other people liked it better – sure. My red hair liked you too! My orange-pink clownish hair – not so much.

Our identity is in our center spot. Not our self–made comfort zones or validation. Not our self-made protection mechanisms. It’s in the change that we allow ourselves to be part of, because we have no control over it. It’s in the lessons we have learned from our own experiences.

It’s in putting a little bit more effort into people, instead of a red aura to scare them off. Clowns have their expiry date anyway.

Your identity is more than just a single thing. Your worth is more. You are more.

Spend time to get to know yourself – good and bad. And from that baseline – start living to become the person your want to be.

Happy identifying my friends!