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10000badframes · 5 years

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On Dyeing My Hair Back to Brown

My hair is brown. It's on the dark side, with an ash-colored overtone which tinges blonde in the sun. It's my dad's hair color with my Mom's pin-straight hippie texture. I was borne white-blonde (tow-headed, as Mom called it,) and my hair darkened as I aged.

When I was sixteen, I started dyeing my hair red. My aunt Pam, whom I loved dearly, had been doing the same for fifty-odd years, and I enjoyed the romanticism of looking Irish, even though we thought we weren't at all (23andMe had other, more definitive things to say about this later.) To me it was distinctive and sexy, a Satine-in-Moulin-Rouge red, and it set me apart both in my day-to-day and as a nascent performer. I loved it when people mistook it for my real hair color, because red was Exciting and Different where brown was mundane.

It was also a pain in the butt, though. I didn't get a good coppery natural red off of the wash-out dyes, so I started a vicious cycle of permanent dyes which would go in and out of production, forcing me to switch brands every few years. The peroxide to lighten things was harsh, and as great as it would look for two or so weeks after the dye job, it would fade rapidly into a descriptionless pale tone with incongruous dark roots. Going to Ireland, I found myself taking the risky step of dyeing my hair in an Airbnb apartment because the first three tries had looked 'too fake,' and I wanted to seem like I belonged. Stylists would tsk at the state of my fried, breaking, split-ended hair and chastise me to get it professionally done in order to avoid further damage. I tried it; I had it done in a salon three times, and each time it was a) a bright, unnatural-looking red a la Mary Jane from the first Spiderman movie, and b) no less than $150 - sometimes as much as $300 - due to the length and color-layering involved.

Despite all the trouble, expense, and dubious chemistry of it all, my hair in my wedding pictures, in my family photos, in my senior portrait, in my travel albums, all of it, was red. It was how people pointed me out in a crowd. It elevated my appearance on a daily basis, determined what colors I wore. Who was I without it, really? I spent nineteen years without seeing more than half an inch of my own genetically-determined hair color at any given time.

After the Airbnb incident, I let my roots grow out for two months, and took them to the local queer-inclusive salon in my town. My stylist looked closely at them and at my brows, then layered on the matching brown. I didn't know quite what to do with the person in the mirror. She was paler, her blue eyes stood out more, she looked more like the rest of her family. She didn't look as special anymore. When I got home, I fretted to my husband about whether he was still attracted to me (o, he was.) I balked every time I caught a glimpse of myself.

The thing is, this past year, I found out that I'm frighteningly Irish, like, eighty percent or so. I don't need to dye my hair to look Irish because I am Irish, so the way I look is the way an Irish person looks. I stopped being a performer some years ago and am gaining acclaim in my new field (a field which puts less emphasis on physical appearance, thank goodness,) actual accomplishments I can point to when I start questioning my merit out of habit. Even my relationship changed; it matured, it calmed, it grew deeper and less turbulent. I used to spend a lot of time feeling like a phoenix, constantly regrowing after some new hurt. Lately, it's all loam and healing rain inside - brown soil, blue water.

I may henna it red sometime in the future if I feel like looking special for a bit, or I might get a red wig for fancy occasions. In the meantime, though, I'm exploring the discomfort of the rubber meeting the road when it comes to being authentically who I am. To be clear: I'm 100% supportive of people dyeing their hair whatever color for whatever reason, and I don't think I'm better or worse for this decision to stop than those who decide to keep going. For me, it's important to show myself that I don't need to *look* special or stand out in order to *be* special and have worth.

#body positivity #self worth #personal #dyed hair

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sweetnestor · 7 years

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Story of Another Us | Week 11

university au, platonic af, now on ao3!

previous chapter | masterlist | playlist

My heart is here, it’s such a cause

I didn’t expect a phone call, text message, or any interaction from Mark. I probably should have been the one to go to him. Apologize for being stupid and getting too close to his friend. However, given from the silence between us since that night, I figured that he wanted me to stay away. I wasn’t even sure if I could still call him my boyfriend, and that terrified me. I desperately wanted to talk to him, but he was angry with me and I couldn’t really blame him.

This silence only forced me and Jack to carry on as usual. We went to class together that morning, earlier than usual since we decided it was best not to go back to Mark’s while he was in this mood. This left me with no time to dress presentably or do any makeup, and Jack had to call his girlfriend and rely on her to get his videos uploaded. Not to mention, the car ride from my apartment all the way to YTU was much longer than if we had gone from Mark’s house.

Speaking of YTU, campus was even more empty these days. There were only about six weeks left in the semester. Six weeks until the place closed down for good. There was really no point in coming anymore, according to the students who lived in the area. I, on the other hand, needed to get my money’s worth from these fucking classes, and so did Jack.

“You feel like meeting people?” he asked, pointing out the small group of people standing around the entrance to the main parking lot.

The one day I didn’t put on makeup. I drove past the group and parked somewhat far from the main office. I thought about it as we got out of the car, but I didn’t have much choice. The group had followed my car to where we parked.

Technically, we weren’t supposed to meet fans here, but Jack was more than happy to break the rules since “there’s no one here to tell us we can’t!” Plus, campus was closing down anyway, so fuck it.

“You’re Bella Santiago, right?” one girl asked me, which was surprising. I thought they were here for Jack. “Can I get a selfie? I really love your videos!”

It happened very quickly. I smiled for the picture, the girl thanked me and went to get a picture with Jack. Another person came up to me, smiling wide.

“Your anxiety video made me cry! It was so touching!” she told me.

“Aw, thank you!” I replied, instantly a lot happier. “That means a lot!”

A sudden wave of praise came from the group, all of them saying that the video was really good. It made me feel warm and pleasant. So maybe I wasn’t so depressing after all. I was expecting to be brushed off, especially since most of the group seemed to know Jack. But they were all really kind.

However, it didn’t last long. A campus security guard whisked us away, and practically yelled at the group to get off property. Jack and I pretty much had no choice but to follow him inside the main office.

“You guys are not allowed to interact with fans, you know that, right?” he told us sternly. “You’re only going to attract more people here.”

“Well, it’s not like we asked them to come over here,” I said back. “The place is closing anyway, why does it matter?”

Jack gave me an incredulous look as we walked through the main office. It wasn’t exactly typical of me to talk back, and he had never seen me be this way before.

“I’m just doing my job, Miss,” the guard told me before walking off.

I rolled my eyes and went out to the courtyard. That’s when Jack finally spoke.

“I’ve never heard you talk like that before,” he said. “You sounded really… ballsy.”

I chuckled. “I guess when it comes to the people who watch my videos, I take no shit.”

“That’s good. Really bold of you.”

It wasn’t until we got to class that we both tweeted out apologies to the people we met in the parking lot. I had to refrain from ranting publicly. Instead, I focused on what it was like to meet those people. In my time of have a sizeable following, I was noticed seldomly. It wasn’t until I was associated with Mark did it start happening more. You would think being approached by random people would make my anxiety spike…

Instead, it just made me tired and irritable. By the time we got home from class, I was looking forward to a ten year nap. Jack was still peppy and perky and talking off my last nerves. However, being the avoidant little shit I was, I just let him be. Listening to him also meant I could avoid checking my phone for any interaction from Mark. I really didn’t want to be the one to start that conversation.

“So, are we going to record today?” That was the only thing I caught from his long ramble.

I thought about it. “Are you up for it?”

“Yeah!”

We were supposed to make a video for my channel today. I had to do that today. Despite everything, this had to be done. I couldn’t be a stick in the mud.

“Okay,” I said, my eyes trailing up to Jack’s hair. “How overdue are you for dying your hair?”

He ran his fingers through the faded green locks in thought. I could see his brown roots peeking out and I almost audibly gasped. I had to get my hands on them.

“You wanna do that for a video?” he asked.

“Is it a bad idea? We could do something else…”

“No, no it’s your channel, you hold all the cards here.”

“Hey guys, it’s Bella!” I greeted happily to the camera set up in the living room. “Today I’m here with my friend Jack, and I’m gonna dye his hair and bleach his roots.”

Jack was sitting in a chair in front of me, a towel over himself. His hair was slightly all over the place, given that I was touching it and messing with it earlier to see what exactly I needed to do for this look. He was pretty pleased about this, given that I wasn’t going to charge him for doing this for him. He needed a new coat of green hair, and I needed a new video to post. It’s a win-win.

“So, this is partly a tutorial and partly two friends hanging out,” I explained.

“Twice the fun,” Jack said in a mock happy tone.

“Let’s get started!”

I mixed the bleach in a plastic bowl with a brush and explained how to do so before applying it to Jack’s roots. I also read off the box just to make sure I wasn’t doing anything wrong. “‘Do not use if you are not a licensed cosmetologist.’ Oops!”

“You’re not licensed?” Jack asked in mock surprised. “You’re a fraud!”

“Whoops, you caught me!”

“No, but really, didn’t you go to beauty school?”

“I did, but I never finished it because of YTU. So technically, I shouldn’t be allowed near these products.”

I continued applying the bleach, surprisingly at ease. Hair knowledge was right underneath my makeup knowledge, and it was fun getting my hands on some hair again. Although, since it was only the top of Jack’s head that needed the fix, the first step was done a lot quicker than expected.

“Somehow I forgot that you don’t have that much hair to bleach and dye,” I pointed out. “How much time do you usually spend in a salon?”

“Oh god, like two hours,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “It takes forever!”

“Dude, my hair takes at least four or five hours,” I told him, pointing to my long, black and pink ombre. “You’re lucky!”

“How can you be so patient? I go crazy just sitting in the chair!”

“It’s fun for me.” I smiled.

The next step after washing off the bleach was the color. I chose a vibrant green that wasn’t too off from previous shades that Jack has had before. For me, this was the easiest part.

“With bleach, you have to be careful not to leave it on for too long,” I explained, “especially with darker hair because it’s very easy to damage it a lot. So you have to constantly keep an eye on it and see how quickly the hair catches onto it. With the actual color, you just have to apply it and wait it out. Usually the formula will have some type of vitamins and stuff that’s good for the hair. But it’s still a good idea to get some hydrating conditioners and other hair products on the side.”

“See, I wish my hairdresser in Ireland had told me this,” Jack said. “Everything makes a lot more sense now!”

Once we finished and cleaned everything up, Jack had wonderful, bright green hair. I was relieved I hadn’t lost my hair styling skills over time. As soon as the camera turned off, I pretty much hid away in my bedroom, the depression returning. I crawled into bed and sighed in relief. I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread and gloominess for some reason. It was like I drained the last of my energy in that video.

I scrolled on my phone, looking at the pictures that were posted from the impromptu meetup earlier. I looked awful without my makeup. How could people see me as a beauty guru? How could I go outside looking like that?

So much for finding comfort on Twitter… I went to Tumblr instead, and I had to resist making a long, rambly post. Then I realized that no one would want to see a wall of text clog up their dash. I just looked at my feed, reblogging pictures of makeup I already owned, liking posts people mentioned me in. There were cute edits and gifsets of me and Mark, which only made my heart ache.

I wasn’t sure why I got so angry with him. Maybe I did get too close to Jack. Maybe I had done things that gave off the wrong idea. Or maybe I just wasn’t attracted to Mark and that’s why I didn’t want to get into bed with him. Maybe I was just faking my anxiety this whole time.

It felt like time was going slow, or not moving at all. I wasn’t sure if I had fallen asleep or gotten up at all. I could only tell time by the sound of Jack’s voice outside my door. He was recording his own videos and acting like everything was okay. I wish I knew how to act like that off camera.

I started feeling restless and antsy when his voice finally stopped. A constant background noise was something I needed, otherwise I’d go crazy. I rolled onto my side, listening for any kind of sound to break the silence. No footsteps, movements, or anything from the TV did that. It was like Jack had disappeared. Wouldn’t blame him.

Honestly, though, I still didn’t want to interact with anyone. I just liked hearing someone else in the apartment. I went to take a shower. Any sound from there would block out the ongoing gloom in my head.

I pretty much just sat there. Actual hygiene wasn’t important to me at the moment. The water was hitting my scalp and, while it was deteriorating the black and pink dye in my hair, it felt good. It gave me a sense of feeling again. Like a breath of fresh air, except it was water. I coughed and choked. It was better than not feeling anything.

When I was out of the shower and getting dressed, I heard noise within the apartment. I heard voices. Angry voices. Maybe I really did go crazy. Although, the mere thought did make me leave my room to actually make sure that wasn’t true.

I found Jack and Mark standing in the living room. They went quiet as soon as I showed up. The air was tense, making my stomach flip over. To be honest, I didn’t expect Mark to show up so soon.

“You still let him stay here?” he asked me in disbelief.

Yes I did, and I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me. I’m so sorry for being a terrible girlfriend, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

Those words were rising up my throat, ready to be puked out. I was fighting with myself not to speak those words. I couldn’t apologize for letting my friend live here.

“It was me,” Jack spoke up. “I asked if I could still stay here. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize how bad the situation was.”

“You’re telling me,” Mark began, not sounding any less angry, “that even after I told you how uncomfortable I was with you living with my girlfriend, you still had the nerve to ask her if you could still keep living here?”

Jack gulped, clearly intimidated. “Yes.”

“What kind of friend are you?”

“Oh my god!” I snapped, my body trembling with nerves. I couldn’t control my mouth. “You’re the one who made him stay here in the first place! You’re the one who pushed us to be friends! You’re the one who felt enough pity for me to fly your friend out here and talk to me because I can’t do that on my own! ¿Y sabes que? You don’t get to be angry that Jack and I are friends now! You don’t get to be angry because he’s here for me more than you are, that’s on you! So don’t come crying over here quejando y quejando because you’re the one who made all this happen in the first place!”

I was breathing heavily and my chest was hurting. Mark and Jack had their mouths open in shock. When have they ever heard me speak this way? I didn’t think I could speak this way either.

Thankfully, the silence didn’t last long. Mark sighed and nodded to my open bedroom door. “Room.”

Still fuming, I turned on my heel and went to my room, Mark quickly following my trail. Before I shut the door, I saw Jack quickly scurry over to his room to hide. Lucky him, he gets to sit this one out.

“What do you mean he’s here for you more?” Mark asked, breathing like he was trying to keep himself steady. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly that, you’re never here,” I told him. “And you asked Jack to move here, without so much as giving me a heads up!”

“I didn’t ask him, I told him that you had an extra room, and you were happy to let him stay!” Mark justified.

“Because you put me on the spot! That doesn’t matter now anyway, I’m actually glad he’s my roommate, because as I said, he’s my friend and he’s there for me!”

“Stop saying that!” Mark nearly yelled, making me flinch. However, he took a step back and lowered his tone. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been neglecting you. I have been busy, I’ve been going to meetings and making videos, and this tour thing. I do all of this while you’re on campus, and I try to get things done, I do. Aside from that, I’ve got Matt and Ryan, and it’s like I’m raising kids! I’m not trying to use that as an excuse either, but I am sorry I can’t always be here. It’s not fair to you.”

Time management was something we had established when we first started dating. For some reason, I didn’t think it was going to be this hard. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all. This was all part of the vlogger dating experience, after all.

“So you’re not avoiding me?” I asked.

“Of course not.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were, I know I’m a handful.”

“Don’t say that, Bella. I know things are hard right now, but I will make a better effort to be with you.”

I paced around the room to avoid looking at him. “Okay… so, what about Jack?”

Mark shrugged. “What about him?”

“Am I not allowed to be friends with him anymore? He’s the only friend I’ve got.” I hated saying that, it just emphasized my patheticness.

It felt worse when Mark hesitated. “I don’t know. Do you really not have anyone else?”

“No…” I said softly. “No, and it sucks. I only have you and him, two whole people. And I know I should try to talk to more people, but god you have no idea how hard it is!”

“I know. You deserve to have friends, even if it’s only one or two. I’m sorry I made a big deal out of you and Jack. I just want you to trust me,” Mark confessed. “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must be for you, and I’m sorry if I made it harder. Just know that I am here for you, whenever you need me. I promise.”

That’s a big word that adds more pressure. But who was I to deny him? Words could only do so much, but god I couldn’t go down to have only one friend. Especially if that friend wasn’t going to stay here permanently.

“Okay,” I said. “Fine…”

“Okay.” Mark sighed.

Don’t lose this one. He’s all you’ve got. You lose him, you lose everything...

_______

next chapter

#jacksepticeye x oc #jacksepticeye x reader #markiplier x oc #markiplier x reader #soau #sweetheart writes #theres like 3 more chapters left ksdhklasdhklasd #also the last 3 songs on the playlist are more 'bonus songs'#like the rest are mentioned or included in the story somehow #but the last three are like just for lols

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