All of the sudden she blurts out (loudly)
"Oh I get it her father must be blond!"
to that I replied "I really don't know"
August she was red in the face and uppity judgmental.
To that I replied "she is adopted."
That time forward I worked my way up to a lighter and lighter blond/brown hair color. At 36 my hair had never been colored. Always being a natural sort of woman it was unthinkable. As the years have passed by the lightening just became a thoughtless thing. Well perhaps not so thoughtless. It was so important to me that the kids always felt a part of, or a sense of belonging to us.
Recently at a mom/daughter time Dove noticed that the top of my head was very dark and the ends almost blond. She was stunned! Now with 50 only a few months off the dark had the sweet tell tell signs of the years hard efforts, my first graying hairs. Dove was told the thing was that I thought I just looked prettier with light hair.
In actuality it was light so long that I never really gave it much thought. For my early ears it was full of sum kissed highlights. Lemon juice on tips of fingers would be rubbed into my hair. It was very light by end of the summers.
Recently it occurred to me why. Why had my true image been lost into the mom bear watching over the cubs. Now they are able to well watch over their own self in this. For we all belong so tightly together. In the early years so much energy was placed on the attachment disorders/issues that it mattered most that they not experience any other ignorant thoughtless questions of 'how 'we belong together.
The day before yesterday I came home to my true color.
Now the kids want dark 'high lights'. It was explained that that would not be a lightening but a darkening. So in the summer they might for fun get to have a darker wash out color. Not allowed during the school year for it would be disrespectful and distraction in class. Funny it just occurred to me. For years I changed to be like them...now they want to change to look like me.
When I was in my early thirties I came to know that I am not as my sister of the same dad. My dad was a boarder in the boarding house. An Inuit Native American man. When I learned that I was so Native American life changed. I kid you not. I was treated much differently when I identified as Caucasian. As I identified as NA there were less chins held high when spoken to. The racial issues in this country are so sad. All over the world for that matter. As part Cherokee/dutch and Inuit tanning stopped. So funny when I was a white chick with an awesome tan it was cool. Oh yes when I tan it is so pretty. I stopped tanning during those years. I always said it was to protect my skin. Cool to step back and look at all the fall out. I love my skin. I really love having my hair color back.