Ok ... so it's a new year, time to start over, and blah blah blah.

The answer to this soul-searching college student's so-called "fresh start" happened to begin with the easiest to change: hair.

Yep, it's as simple that. A cut and dye job, if you will.

What is this crazy girl talking about you might ask? She's taking the women's movement back 20 years.

Au contraire.

Twenty years of what some considered strawberry blonde, and by others, a redhead, on an impulse I decided to chop my locks and color it a not-so natural looking shade of dark red. Or perhaps maroon would be more appropriate.

Finally doing what I've always wanted to do, restricting myself to the confines of what others think just didn't seem important anymore, as I stood over the sink with a box of L'oreal number whatever, wishing I were Franka Potente in "The Bourne Identity," with Matt Damon dying my hair.

You know what I'm talking about.

Some might think I did it for shock value, others might think I had some kind of psychotic nervous breakdown. But honestly, it's just as simple as finally being comfortable enough in my own skin to break the bonds of 'long hair,' which I've adhered to in some capacity since the age of three.

Until, however, my best friend in pre-school convinced me that having long hair past my waist was a bad idea because I would most certainly have an accident when using 'the potty.' And promptly after was my first short hair cut.

Short hair, contrary to what I thought as a teenager, or even as a college freshman, is actually quite liberating.

The thought of cutting my hair, let alone altering its color, horrified me as a teenager. Especially when stylists used to tell me older women paid for hair color like mine. I've always admired those who dare to be true to themselves, and envied those who listen to the tune of their own drummer, wishing I could one day be like them and just look how I want to look.

Looking like what some may deem as "artsy" is far more attainable for this fair-skinned, never going to be tan or blonde female, so isn't it best to accept it and just run with it?

Walking through the streets of downtown Pittsburgh, I couldn't believe how good the cold wind felt on my neck, how much freer I felt and how I was sorry I had never felt it before.

I used to look at females and wonder how they could enjoy not pulling their hair into a ponytail, and why anyone would want to dye their hair a color that is clearly, well, fake.

But at the end of the day, it all comes down to being comfortable with oneself. As a 17-year-old, I constantly worried about what others might think of me if I decided to wear a sweatshirt from a place other than a name brand store, and saved my money religiously to buy clothes from "Abercrombie and Fitch." It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, but it's true.

Perhaps everyone should focus less on what their peers may think, i.e. the weight that "needs" to be lost to "look good" for spring break, and concentrate instead on being comfortable enough to simply do what you've always wanted to do and to change what you've always wanted to change for yourself.

Not because what you have isn't good enough, but because you don't care what other people think.

Go ahead and live outside the box.

Next stop: nose ring and Clementine's 'tangerine.'