There is always more than one way back to ourselves.
It was supposed to be an outrageous experiment in hair color.
The concept was bold. Brazen, even. Certainly unusual.
For one week each, I was to brave the wide-eyed streets of NYC as a redhead, a brunette, a blonde, a black-tressed woman, and in my own locks. A detective would follow me, observe, and report how the world interacted with each of my "selves."
No small task for a woman struggling with bipolar disorder. Willingly inviting the eyes of everyone I encountered. Purposefully subjecting myself to their critiques.
The experience stunned me. Excited me. Sometimes, it hurt deeply.
Beautifully written adventure of someone stepping over that self imposed boundary and living beyond the confines of the mind.
But suddenly I found I'd embarked upon an unorthodox, extraordinary path to self-healing.
This is a story about what happens when we make the choice to heal ourselves differently. To chart a path back to our own minds in weird, strange, and wonderful ways.