I have to admit, I was missing the pink.  When I was getting dressed this morning and remembering that I had a hair appointment for a new color I thought of the color pink.  I have so many beautiful shirts that go well with pink.  Of course, those of you who know me well know that I don’t verbally request any color, haven’t for years.  I fully trust the woman who does my hair.  I know she has to be thrilled with the opportunity to do whatever she wants to do and allow her brilliant creativity to shine.  I trust her with my hair.  I trust her.

So I had no idea what color I would end up with by the end of the night.

I walked in to the salon and she was at the front desk, greeted me and we walked back to her station.  She knew exactly what she was going to do to my hair.  I could tell.  I don’t remember what all she said verbatim but she let me know how exciting it was going to be.

She put on her gloves.  The colors had already been mixed up before my arrival.  She was prepared.  She got busy with whatever she does.  I normally pay attention as much as possible to the process.  I admit it, I am fascinated with it all and would love to “do” hair.

I noticed some tin foil going on up there and felt the coolness of the dye sinking in.  But I started talking to her and didn’t pay attention much at all to what she was doing.  I like the surprise.

She is a wonderful listener.  She remembers all the players and themes in my life.  She got an ear full today.  At some point, she took me to the sink and rinsed out my hair.  The conversation paused when she had me back in the chair and had to go get something from the other room.  At that point, I looked in the mirror.  My hair had been a rather dark red with some black undertone.  It had faded into a wonderful brownish reddish color.  With whatever highlights she had just added, it reminded me even more of the leaves fallen all over, or holding on still, this season.  It seemed a melting of red, orange, yellow and brown.  It was incredible.

She returned and I made a comment about how wonderful it looked.  “I know right?  You just wait!”

I resumed to talking about my life.  I noticed she had another bowl of color and the brushing on of a brilliant pink began.

The pressure steadily deflated as the appointment went on.  I am not sure what is more helpful in the process.  Certainly, the counselor-like-patience and listening skills are helpful.

I also tend to believe pink has an incredibly healing quality about it.

I admit that I fought my love for pink for many years but I have admitted to myself and come out of the “pink lover’s closet”.  I no longer hide my pink.  I wear it whenever I want to.  And one of my all time favorite hair colors was when she did it solid pink all over.  It was wonderful.

And the general public treated me better – but that is another story.

I walked out of the salon tonight with darker hair.  I haven’t looked at it enough to see if it is more black than brown or vice versa, or both for that matter.  It is different from every angle but the overall essence of the hair cut is a darker shade.  But then, bright pink highlights.  Bright.  Pink.

I love it.  It makes me happy.  More people will smile at me.  And when I am stressed out in the upcoming months, the pink will help me feel my strength.

Think pink…