As of today, my promise to myself is to be braver and not let social anxiety lead me to do ridiculous things.
Let me explain.
Today I went to the hairdressers just to get my roots touched up and ended up taking British politeness to a whole other level. Since this hairdresser has been practically the only place to get my hair the colour blonde I wanted with no fuss and not much expense, I felt pretty confident to let her do her thing again and make my hair *flawless* again:
Anyways, she did it perfectly last time. This time however, it was going wonderfully until the last half hour when she went kinda “I want to try this, I think it’ll look nice”. “This” being a silvery-grey colour which I’d seen looking gorgeous on other people but which I knew would not suit me. I stuck to my guns for as long as possible, until social anxiety would not let me disagree any longer; British politeness kicked in and demanded my hair as sacrifice. I agreed. I literally sat there and let this hairdresser carry on with something I didn’t want to avoid being rude. It did not end well. The colour backfired and I ended up with an interesting blue-grey hue, reminiscant of a Disney witch:
To be fair, the colour itself wasn’t so bad, it was just definitely not right for me. I spent the rest of the day shuffling around my house, chuntering away under my breath old-woman-fashion, and probably making myself look even more witchy in the process. Kieran, ever the gentleman, manfully avoided jokes and left a placatory calming offer for his witchy girlfriend:
So. The promise: I will be braver.