I'm having one of those days where I'm remembering all the reasons I loved who I was for the 3 years I was dying my hair red.
For those of you not keeping track, I dyed my hair a dark auburn red around February of 2011 while I was studying abroad and went from this
and then continued dying my hair as close to that shade of red as possible for the following three years. Again, for those of you not keeping track, I stopped dying my hair around October(?) of 2013, and actually hardcore bleached it in November 2013, leaving it strawberry blonde. I did a glaze in January that sort of toned it a bit, and since then have not colored it at all. Every day I get closer and closer to my natural blonde. My father and brother, who have been active leaders of the We-Hate-Rachel-With-Anything-But-Natural-Hair Club, are thrilled.
Why, you ask, should you give a crap? Well, you probably shouldn't; it's my business. But the real question is: "Why is this such an emotional thing for you, Rachel?"
To quote one of my college professors, "Well, I'll tell you."