SITTING there, I felt like I was cheating.

I worried that I might be seen.

I worried afterwards that there would be tell-tale signs.

Such was the emotion I felt when I once and only once, went behind my hairdressers back when she was away travelling for a few months, and had my tresses teased at ‘Guy Christian Salon’ in Cardiff Bay.

This was years ago.

I would never hair-cheat on Alice at ‘Blu’.

I have read that some women find leaving their hairdresser, an emotional wrench, akin to ending a failed romantic relationship.

Over the years I have had some wonderful hairdressers, Lucy who worked from home and made appointments when my children were tots, stress-free, by offering snacks and CBeebies while I chilled in the chair.

Dawn, who had unending patience and cajoled my then toddler son to have his thick hair trimmed, once whilst he lay on the floor as she snipped and clipped and in the process, must’ve aged her back.

Now Alice, who is chilled and utterly charming and does things to my hair that work for me and my lifestyle and takes equal care and patience with my daughter.

I have friends in two distinct camps, those that are stay through thick and thin loyalists and those that play fast and loose with any notion of commitment, flitting to whichever salon has a good deal or convenient appointment or even between hairdressers within the same salon.

When I was rather younger than I am now, I heard it said that post-forty, women shouldn’t have really long hair.

I am now a little past forty and realise that for the tosh that it is.

The most glorious, lustrous, healthy-looking mane sits atop the gorgeous head of my friend Lynne who, like a Hallmark card, is in her ‘fifties and fabulous’.

My friend Laura has smooth, shiny, cloud of honey tinged tresses and Teresa has a tumble of beautiful blond curls that would turn Barbie green.

A brave and brilliant woman I know recently shaved her head to raise money for a cancer charity.

It made me question this thick, sometimes unmanageable mop on my head and its importance, significance and impact.

In the Bible, Samson imbues his hair with superhuman strength and even now, our hair becomes a signifier of us.

It’s a short-hand description.

It becomes a thing of judgement, possibly more so than any other aspect of our physical appearance.

As people lose hair through age or illness, it is starkly visible sign that we are not always in control of ourselves.

So to have the luxury of choice about what we do with it is something to be embraced for as long as possible.

Colour it; chop it; grow it; curl it; waft it and stride out with pride.

Make your hair talk about what you want and be part of the wonderful conversation that is you and don’t give two hoots for what others think it should say.