After several times my husband ensured me that my new hair was not that terrible, I finally plucked up enough courage to enter into my office, bracing for one blow after another:

Mike exclaimed loudly: “Where did you get that?” Take a close look, he said seriously: “I think you should go red."

I pretended to work hard on my computer, trying to block out his presence entirely.

Mike paused for a moment and continued: No, for a second thought, you should dye it blue! Red is everywhere, but blue is so special! You would get a stunning result!

I: Ignoring him, keep ignoring him…..

My boss: Woo!  It’s so ugly! Totally not You. You know what, next time if you decided to waste money on your hair, you should come to me.

I shivered, horrified at the image of Mr. Big with scissors coming at my hair….

Later at the lunch

Anton stood up with a mischievous smile and announced: Let's toast for B's complicated new hair!”

I: Searching for a hole to squeeze myself in

Linda: I think your hair is cute.

I:  looking at her with gratitude, a hope rising up from my chest.

Linda continued: “My mum got the same several days before. It is so terrible that she couldn't go out without a hat.” She patted me on the shoulder: “But I think yours are better than her.”

Ok, she is several years younger than me, but her mother?

I: trying desperately to pull the shattered pieces of myself back into some semblance of humanity