As I approached the entrance, I felt a pang of guilt. I had always been loyal. Prior to this moment, I had gone back and forth, grappling with the decision. If I went through with it, I wouldn’t be able to deny I strayed. But I was unhappy and needed a change. So, with a deep breath, I pushed open the door and sat in the salon chair.
Before this moment, I had never cheated on my hair colorist since we began working together over a decade ago. Aside from the pandemic lockdown when the salon was closed, I met with her consistently every four weeks.
As a hair care professional, she is meticulous and responsible. She takes pride in her work. On the occasion that I am running late, she is understanding. If I am in a bind, she will always find a way to squeeze me in if I ask, even if the receptionist says she is fully booked.
Personally, I am very fond of her. She is a warm, friendly, and genuine woman. No matter how crazy her day is, she immediately greets me with a broad smile when I walk in for my monthly single process.
We have gotten to know each other and developed an easy rapport, talking about everything from our families to weekend plans. Even though we never socialized outside the salon, we have a long-lasting relationship. That is why going to someone new felt like such a betrayal.
But for nearly a year, I’d been frustrated with how my hair looked. Although I spent over two hours at every visit transforming into a glossy brunette, my color seemed to fade quickly. Within 10 days, I would notice a stubborn gray forming a white streak at my part line. My hair looked thin, especially in the front, and a little dull overall.
During the past few visits, every appointment began with me expressing my concerns about my hair. While my colorist was patient and sympathetic, ultimately, she had no real solutions beyond suggesting I come to the salon more often for root touch-ups. Then she would go to the backroom, mix up the same color formula she always used and applied in the same way she always had.
A cautious person by nature, a part of me was comforted knowing my hair color would be exactly the same as the last time I had come for a touch-up. I might not have been 100 percent satisfied, but I never left with color I totally disliked.