Getting back to my roots

Its funny how a little thing like hair in a girls life can be such a big deal. I have been in Ohio a year and have tried three stylist to do my hair. Not one of them can seem to do what I ask. My hair seemed to get lighter and lighter no matter how much I asked for help to get my hair to match my roots. I bought a box once this year and turned my hair orange. A friend at work suggested I go to the local beauty store and talk with them. Jason has been working a lot of nights, so without his reasoning in my life, and the boredom that set in... I went. A young man with black and purple hair, a shrill voice, and finger nails significantly longer than my own, knew just what I needed. Sixteen bucks poorer and I was off. My hair is now a nice reddish auburn. Not that it is bad really, just not my original color. My sweet 12 year old helped me put on the color and loves the end result. My husband is a bit shocked (he had no warning). This seems to me to be somewhat like life. I think we go from wanting to be everyone else, to just wanting to be more of ourselves. But just like coloring your hair for years and years it is easy for one to forget the original color. I am learning that the road to authenticity is a long and hard one. I guess getting back to ones roots is in the process not the product. For now I will just enjoy being a red head (for the next six weeks or so) and try again to get back to my roots at another time.