Dye Your Hair Blue

Living life how others want you to live—it can be so detrimental to your health.

My father's health had slipped, and up to that point in my life I had a comfortable job that didn’t pay me well, but I was happy; I decided I needed to get a full-time job to help my mom pay bills. It was at a Big corporation retail store. It was fun at first, but after a while, I felt like a sell-out, like I couldn't make any moves or decisions for myself anymore, all aspects of my life were controlled by my family and my job. My personality felt non-existent, and every day was spent in a haze. I kept asking myself, what my next move would be in my life after. So far, at $13 an hour, this was my best-paying job. I had worked hard the past two years, to get to this place in my life. From drug addict to saleswoman to corporate. Yet, I wasn't happy, and I felt burned out.

I thought my father was better.

I thought they didn’t need my help financially, and that I could focus on myself. There was so much promise to get out of the endless cavern, that I called work. All the women at work were so encouraging about me going back to school, they boasted how I had so much potential.

They could see I wasn't happy. So why couldn't my family? Each time I saw them at a gathering, they would ask how work was. Over time, naturally when asked, each time my enthusiasm had simmered down and was non-existent. Of course, I had reached out to each of my family members hoping to receive words of wisdom, but I was met with a harsh and depressing reality when each response sounded the same. “I hate my job! I have customers call me a wet back all the time! You don't see me complaining,” my mother, who was from Honduras, tried to understand my problems, but she had no solution to her similar situation. I turned away, understanding her issues and went to my father. His advice “You work to live, Catherine. Even if you hate your job, you need to realize this, every aspect of your life you pay for. Even if you’re miserable, you need a paycheck to live. So find a job you hate the least and stick to it.”

I received a similar response from my Grandfather.

I felt so disillusioned.

My family didn't see the potential in me that others could; the potential that I could see.

They doubted my decision, and even tried to advise me against working at a furniture store, and instead, tried to suggest I work at a pool hall. I decided not to listen to their advice anymore, once they suggested that. All the while, while I worked there at the furniture store, I was building my resume; at least, that's what I kept insisting. The entirety of those ten months, my father would gripe at me to get a full-time job: “a real job.” As if the job I had at the furniture store wasn't a real job; I ignored him and kept on my path. When it came to the retail store, even then my family wasn't entirely supportive. The only reason they did become supportive was once they found out what the pay was. They didn't like that I was working part-time at both jobs, and wanted me to quit the furniture store, but I insisted that I knew what I was doing.

Then my father had a heart attack.

I was scared for my mother. I had to think of her.

So I quit my job at the furniture store, and started working full time for the retail store. I was finally listening to my father's advice, because I was scared. The money was good, but I was miserable; I told myself just bide your time, Catherine. It took months for him to get home, about three to four months until he came home. During that time, it was just working and home. Nothing else, nothing that gave me excitement in my life. Once my father came home, he was on the up and up. He even started going back to work, and I thought they wouldn't need my help anymore.

So I told myself; Dye your hair and go to school! You’ve been living life how everyone else wants you to. What would make you happy? I had never dyed my hair before; I had always, when I was a child, thought about what kind of “cool” adult I’d be. Eccentric in every sense, with colored hair and plenty of tattoos. I'm starting to realize the child I was, was so much more ambitious and brave, than the adult I am now. Growing up in a modest and old fashioned home, my family valued traditional beauty. They didn't hop on the bandwagon for the zeitgeist fashion sense of our century, of embracing different subcultures and combining them for your unique style. They aren't supportive of it; no one really is.

So, here I am at 21, this simplistic beauty, who has no direction in life. I'm making the active decision to follow the lifestyle path that I think would make me happy. I can't live my life seeking the approval of others. So the path that would make me happy, is dying my hair blue, and going back to school. It’s about time I listened to my gut again, and not the advice of my family. It's too depressing if I take their advice. Plus, it led me down the right road before.

Writing helps clear one's mind, and makes it easier for an individual to help think out their own issues and can be therapeutic for a troubled mind that can't make sense of their own thoughts. So, I wrote this to help me stay motivated to keep paving my own path. Hopefully, my writing isn't too confusing, and I was able to deliver the message concisely. Just do what makes you happy, even if you're not 100 percent sure what that is.