There will be plenty of people reading this who will think I’ve taken leave of my senses, but there will be many, I’m sure, who know exactly what I mean!

(Pauses for deep breath, and dramatic effect) my hairdresser is leaving 😱

I’ve made that sound rather grand, I don’t mean my own private stylist! I mean at the salon I go to (although a significant lottery win would see me at the hairdressers almost daily I’m sure!)

If the subject matter has switched you off, bear with me, this isn’t just about hair, however……

“I hate my hair!”

From being a very curly-haired little girl having to endure the well meant envy of ladies investing in costly perms, right up to present day, me and my ‘Barnet Fair’ have never been on the best of terms!

We always want what we can’t have, don’t we? And my younger sister had the hair I wanted, fair, straight, and most importantly of all, the option of a PONYTAIL! Oh how I dreamed of a ponytail, a plait, or the ultimate….a bun! Thank goodness I had the good fortune to be blessed with the body shape of a baby elephant, no need for me to worry about the neatness of my hair bun for ballet class!

Even my Sindy doll sported better hair than me, but my ultimate hair envy was reserved for my Girl’s World, with her long, flaxen tresses (see picture below in case you weren’t around in the ‘70’s!) Now I look at her I’m more than a little freaked out!

Fast forward to the advent of GHD’s and things have become a little more manageable, and over the years, my adult hair has become more wavy than curly, and now long enough to sport an acceptable ponytail, but I’m still not satisfied, I still want the hair I can never have – well, unless I buy a wig of course!

So that leads me back to my hairdresser, or my now ex-hairdresser, as she’ll have departed before my next appointment, and the whole reason for the blog in the first place

We should all have a ‘hairdresser relationship’ in our lives, someone who sees us when we’re stripped back and vulnerable (sitting in front of a large mirror with wet hair always makes me feel exposed) and then, with their time, skill and attention, they transform us into confident people, ready to tackle anything life throws at us, all because our ‘crowning glory’ looks fantastic!

To some folks, this will still sound rather vain and silly, but those of you with great hairdressers, beauticians, personal trainers etc will know that these relationships take time to cultivate and they are all built on trust. It’s not just about trading gossip and bitching, it’s a shared journey – and for me, the journey was learning to accept the hair I have and then how to be happy with it. For 2 long years my hairdresser has helped me grow my hair, no mean feat when the back of my hair quickly grows thick, silkily soft hair, yet the sides have taken 24 months to reluctantly keep up, and they still haven’t quite reached their destination!

My hairdresser also knows, through time and trust that cutting my fringe too short will only lead to tears (and it did once), she knows I like some blonde highlights, not too many, not too few, but some! She knows I love having my hair shampooed and she knows to spend a little extra time on my head massage when it comes to applying conditioner as it relaxes me so much. She knows I enjoy a glass of fresh juice rather than a hot beverage and she keeps my guilty secret of not being able to resist a trashy, gossip magazine whilst I’m relaxing (the only time I ever read them, honest!)

So, I wish my hairdresser Bon Voyage as she’s off on her worldwide travels, and as she handed my client card over to my new hairdresser, I look forward to building a new relationship of trust

So I’ll leave you with one last thought – who’s the ‘hairdresser’ in your life?