An Honest Account of What It's Really Like to Dye Your Hair Platinum Blonde

I remember the first time I did something drastic to my hair so vividly. My college boyfriend had broken up with me out of the blue, and suddenly, I felt such an all-encompassing, earth-shattering grief—the kind that made my 18-year-old heart squeeze so tightly, I thought I might actually die from the discomfort (dramatic, but so was I at the time). I felt completely helpless in my sadness. My ex definitely wasn’t changing his mind, but I needed to take some sort of action—do something to release the ever-present pain in my chest. So I chopped my hair off. That summer, I booked an appointment at a random local Seattle hair salon and asked the hairstylist to please cut off six inches of my hair and give me a bob. Looking back, this was a rash decision, and the end result was a far cry from flattering (those Facebook albums are hidden for a reason), but I reveled in my short, choppy haircut and arrived back at college feeling like a new, empowered woman. Since then, I’ve treated my hair more or less like a mood ring: adding (unfortunate) pink streaks during a period of my life when I was feeling stuck and dyeing it slate-blue after I ended a seemingly perfect relationship when that familiar ache settled into my chest once again. This all goes to say that I’ve done a lot of things to my hair in the past 10 years, but I’ve never gone platinum—until now.