Happiness is a choice, love is a verb, and my hair is the color of Cherry Coke

Maybe it's because I spent my childhood obsessed with Anne of Green Gables. (The books. Not not not the movies.) But I've wanted red hair for as long as I can remember. So, one day in college I dyed my hair red. I was actually going for light brown and came out with dark red. That was the day I learned that my hair loves red, and any time I dye it anything with even a hint of red, my hair just goes crazy with it. Either way, though, I loved it. I went to my ballroom dance class the next day and got compliments from at least half the guys in the class. Win.

Then when I was 24, I dyed my hair red on purpose. Again, loved it.

And then something miraculous happened. After having my son, my naturally blonde hair got a little darker...but it also got a little redder. I had people complimenting me on my naturally "red" hair. It really wasn't all that red, still, but it was fun.

Two months ago I became a brunette. I was feeling a little impulsive and it just sorta happened. After I did it, I liked it, but I looked in the mirror and thought, "You know, I'd like a slightly redder brown. I'll have to do that when I touch it up." So now my hair is...is...I don't know what to call this! Obviously, this blog post needs a picture...but that's not going to happen right this moment. (I will upload a picture, though. Promise.)

And then it hit me. My hair is the color of Cherry Coke! You know...dark when you first look at it, surprisingly red when it hits the light.

Cherry Coke hair. You'd think that would be a negative thing, but I'm totally digging it.

Now for all that other stuff in the title...

Last year, when I was in a particularly dark place, my mom made the comment that perhaps the reason I was so desperate (because I was at that time) to find someone to love me was because I didn't love myself.

And she was right.

I firmly believe that love is a verb. And action word. To love is not to experience a pretty feeling, although that can be nice. To love is to be patient, kind, long suffering, and all those other things mentioned in the bible verses that I'm not going to look up right now. If I'm going to love anyone, including and especially myself, I can't sit around waiting for it to magically happen.

So I'm not going to. I'm going to take care of myself. I'm going to eat healthy and exercize...but I'm not going to deny myself the amazingness that is frozen pizza. I'm going to do more yoga. I'm going to hug Riley more. I'm going to not let myself neglect my spirituality. And somehow I'm going to do all of this while working 40 hours a week with a 30-minutes-or-more commute each way, taking care of a 2-year-old, and shopping for Christmas?

Eh, I'll figure it out.

You know, it doesn't make a lot of sense (or does it?), but changing my haircolor tend to bring out different pieces of my personality. Redheaded Amanda is going to be a zen Amanda.








PS: Gilbert, are you out there?