The End of an Era — the Becoming of Her

I recently shared on my personal Instagram that I’ve reached the end of an era in my life — it was not something anyone guessed, and something maybe a few will truly understand the depth of. I’ve now locked that page down to friends only, after many years of having a public profile. That decision, too, is part of something bigger. A greater vision. A life lived more intentionally, more aligned, and more presently.

This was big for me. In ways I’m still learning how to articulate.

It’s difficult to put into words the internal transformation I’ve been moving through — the quiet unraveling, the unlearning, the grieving of who I thought I had to be… and the rising of someone new. I’ve always believed we are not victims of our circumstances. Even when life feels like it’s happening to us, I trust that every experience is shaping us, molding us, guiding us down the path we're meant to walk.

Still, if I’m honest, much of the last 10 years felt like I was living someone else’s life. A version of me shaped by duty, expectation, survival, and service. And yet — it was my choice. I chose to show up each day as her. I chose what felt like the right path, even when it didn’t feel entirely like mine. And in doing so, I gained the strength, resilience, and clarity I carry today.

The era that ended was deeply personal. But I chose to mark it in a very visible way: I changed my hair.

Now, before you roll your eyes — this wasn’t just a colour switch. It was a soul shift.

I left school at 16 to become a hairdresser. I’d already been working in a salon, and the moment I could, I began lightening my hair. Foils became platinum. Blonde became identity. That brightness became part of how I was seen — a blonde Barbie. Blonde followed me through my twenties, into the military, into my thirties. It became part of the image I upheld — the one that looked like she had no foundation, the one people expected, the one I became attached to.

But something has been stirring inside me for a while now.

I’ve felt it in the moments of stillness. In the disconnect between how I look and how I feel. In the pull toward something deeper, more grounded, more real. I began to question: Who am I, really, when I stop trying to be what others expect of me?

And on April 24, 2025, I did something simple — but symbolic. I dyed my hair dark brown.

It might seem small from the outside. But for me, it was the closing ritual of a chapter that held so much: my youth, my search for identity, my people-pleasing, my military service, my trying-to-fit-in, my survival years. That version of me — she got me here. And I’m so grateful for her.

But I’m not her anymore.

This is my rebirth. My reclamation. My becoming.

I am stepping into a new chapter — one that is less about how I appear, and more about how I feel. One where I honour my values. One where I live slower, truer, freer. One where I don’t contort myself to fit into spaces I’ve outgrown. One where I make decisions for me, with love and strength — not out of fear or habit.

I’ve outgrown the need to be liked by everyone. I’m more interested in being deeply connected to myself.

This isn't just about hair. It's about identity, self-worth, healing, and the courage to evolve. It’s about letting go of what once worked — even if it still looks good — in order to honour what’s rising within.

To every woman who’s felt the ache of shedding an old version of herself… I see you. It takes courage to outgrow your own past. It takes bravery to begin again — not because you have to, but because you’re finally ready to.

Here’s to becoming her. The woman I was always meant to be.
And maybe... the woman you’re becoming too. 🤎