Purple hair, don't care.

Most of you probably know that I took the plunge and went from my signature red hair to purple (and then purple and magenta). I have only been wearing this new 'do for a couple weeks and it's already starting a strain on me. 

I've always gotten a little negative attention as a woman and a mother, but most of those came from my tattoos. I was outright called a slut at the local YMCA pool in front of my then three year old daughter. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was because I was the only parent there in a two-piece or that combined with the 5 or 6 tattoos I had visible at the time. At Sophie's ballet class I was wearing a maxi dress and both my shoulder tattoos were visible. Not only did I get numerous dirty looks, I had a woman actually pull her daughter away from me and then proceed to glare at me for the duration of the class.

Now that my hair is purple I have been called an attention whore, I've been followed around Barnes and Noble and then subsequently searched as I tried to leave, and I had a man assault me at the library. The library incident was the worst as the man followed me all the way to the back of the reference section and then he proceeded to grab me and say "Mmmm" before I could away. When I found security and they escorted him away I was told that maybe I should consider my appearance next time. I was wearing a work tank top and shorts at the time, so I'm not sure what part of my appearance he thought was to blame. 

While I have gotten an overwhelming positive response from friends and strangers alike (Shout out to Katie Sturgill for working her magic), my hair is bringing me a shocking amount of negative... crap. I can't think of what else to call it. I shouldn't be surprised but I am always shocked at the attention and reproach that my appearance brings. The worst is that most of it from women, the overwhelming number of those are other mothers. They stare at me and my daughter as if they would snatch her away if they could. Clearly all this bright hair and ink means I am in no way capable of being a good mother. I mean I must have spent my morning doing something heinous rather than cooking my baby a pancake breakfast and making sure we cuddle in our pajamas as long as possible before starting her home pre-schooling lesson for the day. Right? 

I suppose all I can do is keep being a positive influence on my daughter and maybe those that we encounter that think I must be a terrible person will see how much I love her and how hard I try and maybe they will learn a lesson or two about shallow judgment and manners.