Being blonde has become part of my Filipino + American identity. As I see things change around me, I sometimes think about the big things that could change too. Enter: What if one day I can’t stay blonde anymore?
I know it sounds vain, but I do think about it. These are some of the thoughts I’ve had along my blonde journey.
I’ve never really known my adult life without blonde hair. At this point, I think people would have a hard time recognizing me without it. I would recognize myself, but I also think seeing myself with black hair again would probably frighten me a little. I remember what I looked like with black hair, but if I went back now, I’d only look older because I am older. My hair has become a frame of reference for this chapter of my life.
Being blonde isn’t how I’ve recognized myself over the last decade. If anything, becoming blonde gave me permission to think outside the box and become more of my authentic self. Sometimes we just need the door opened. For me, that was the blonde door.
If I saw myself today with black hair, I think I’d notice how I’ve aged, but I don’t think any of that self-discovery would disappear. I’ve never temporarily dyed my hair dark or even tried to picture what I’d look like. I think I’ve avoided it because I already have an idea, and I’m not sure I’m ready to meet that version of myself yet.
If I hadn’t gone blonde, I’m honestly not sure where all of that self-expression would have gone. Tattoos and piercings were really taboo to my mom, so those never felt like realistic options. Maybe I would have put more energy into my clothes or my overall aesthetic.
God, I hate thinking about that because it feels so much more performative than dyeing my naturally black Asian hair blonde. If I had gone down that road, I don’t think the idea of Medium Maintenance would even exist for me. This blog definitely wouldn’t exist, and I’d probably be exhausted trying to keep up with my wardrobe. That’s just not my vibe. That feels like a level of superficial I don’t actually want to mess with.
The Cost of Being Blonde
There are many costs associated with being blonde. The most obvious one is financial. I’m sure a lot of people have felt the cost of everyday necessities rising over the last few years. The disposable income I used to have is considerably smaller with where my life is right now. I’m in the middle of moving, and there have been a lot of out-of-pocket expenses tied to wrapping up my mom’s estate. Frankly, things like that need to be handled now, not later.
I know there are ways to stay blonde that cost less. Sometimes my mind goes to worst-case scenarios, and honestly, it motivates me to stay as stable as possible. I’m finally comfortable with how I look. If life got hard enough, being blonde is a luxury I wouldn’t be able to justify anymore.
We all indulge ourselves in different ways, but I know there would come a point where the jig is up. I’m not exactly sure what that would look like, but I think I’d recognize it when it happened.
If I made a hair appointment today knowing it wouldn’t involve blonding, I already know I wouldn’t be making appointments as often. Even if I was just getting small pops of color, I’d be able to spread those appointments out a lot more.
I’d probably feel a little sad, but ultimately I’d accept it and let it motivate me to change my circumstances.
Even though being blonde is a luxury, I have built a lot of my identity around it. I sort of cringe admitting that, but it’s true. People build their identities around much worse things. I’m just a nice lady who’s being nice and being blonde.
Health Issues That Prevent Chemical Services
This is probably the saddest version of this thought. After the losses I’ve experienced recently, it’s hard not to think about my own health as I get older. It’s possible to develop skin conditions, respiratory issues, and all sorts of other health concerns. If my health changes, my priorities will too.
I’m not saying bleaching your hair causes health problems. I’m saying that if I developed something like dermatitis on my scalp, I’d probably stop bleaching my hair for a period of time. I wouldn’t want to continue getting chemical services if they had the potential to make an existing health issue worse.
I’ve been trying to take better care of myself. I’m definitely not perfect, but I have been making better choices. My parents were both relatively healthy, but turning 40 was the first time I really came to terms with the fact that some of the choices they made decades earlier affected their health in their 70s and 80s.
I’ve accepted that if my health ever prevents me from coloring my hair, that’s how it needs to be. Oddly enough, this would probably be the easiest version of this thought for me to accept. After watching my parents age and eventually pass away, I want to do everything I can to live life on my own terms for as long as possible. They were both medical professionals, and it would honestly feel disrespectful to their memory if I didn’t do everything I could to take care of myself.
Aging
I tell my hairdresser from time to time that my plan is to stay blonde until all my hair turns white and I look like Storm from X-Men. I’m more than comfortable transitioning from the blonde I have now into a heavy salt-and-pepper look.
I’ve started noticing more gray hairs when I part my hair. It’s startling when I have to look that hard. It’s even more startling when I don’t.
I’m not fighting gray hair. Blonding is still on the menu right now, but I’m more concerned about nature making that decision for me before I’m ready. With all the stress I’ve been under this past year, the amount of gray I’ve noticed has increased significantly. That’s scary.
At this point, I’m still in control of my blondeness. But every gray hair that seems to magically appear reminds me that I only control the circumstances I have today. I don’t control the overall story.
The gray hair itself doesn’t really bother me. I associate it with stress more than aging, even though I know it’s a sign of aging too. Every new gray hair reminds me of everything that’s happened over the last year, and I think that’s the part that’s hardest to look at.
A Change in Priorities
I know I’m 40, and my window for having children isn’t as large as it used to be. I’ve already come to terms with that, but I’m also aware that I could still potentially have a child.
If I had a child tomorrow, would I spend $400 on my hair? No. Raising a child is expensive. There’s no way around that.
That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t ever spend that kind of money on my hair again. Maybe I would. But maybe my tastes will change. Maybe I’ll recalibrate and decide I’d rather spend that money somewhere else. I’m kind of hoping I don’t, but I also can’t say it’s impossible.
It’s not just about choosing a child over my hair. My priorities would shift. The things that feel important to me today might not be the things that feel important to me ten years from now.
I’m finally at a point in my life where I think I’d be capable of being a good mother. If that chapter ever happens for me, I imagine it will naturally change the way I think about a lot of things, including being blonde.
Someday It Might Not Be Up to Me
Money, health, aging, and children are all ways life could eventually make this decision for me. One day there will be a last blonding appointment. I’m not planning for it, but I know it’s true.
Blonde is temporary, but it’s been part of my identity for over a decade. The reason this thought keeps coming back is because I don’t want to stop being blonde. At the same time, I know this isn’t how nature intended things to work. One way or another, there will probably come a day when blonde isn’t part of my life anymore.
I think this thought has been showing up more often because of everything I’ve experienced over the last year. Loss has a way of reminding you that nothing stays exactly the same forever.
When I first started lightening my hair, it was because of a note I got after an audition. It was something along the lines of, “You look too severe. You look mad.” I took the note on a whim because I already felt like I had a pretty good understanding of who I was, and I still think I did. Going blonde didn’t change who I was. It gave me permission to explore another side of myself.
That one decision pushed my self-exploration further than I ever expected. It eventually led to this blog, the idea of Medium Maintenance, and a version of myself that feels incredibly authentic.
Looking back, blonde hair was never the destination.
It was the door.
Knowing how much time, money, and effort I’ve invested into my hair, it would definitely be a bummer to watch it all grow out one day. I’m genuinely comfortable with how I look now, and I don’t take that for granted. In a world that’s constantly telling us to chase the next version of ourselves, I think it’s a blessing to find one version that finally feels right.
Blonde Asian started as a quick descriptor people used to find me in a room if they’d never met me before. Somewhere along the way, it became much more than that. I think it’s really the way I move through life.
If I woke up tomorrow and my hair was restored to its natural color, I’d still be the Blonde Asian.
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