I suppose this is the rebrand of the rebrand. Earlier this year, I said goodbye to Pepetoe. Not completely. I don’t think I ever could. Pepetoe is literally tattooed on me, after all. It was a name I created when I was younger, and it became this little corner of the internet that grew up alongside me. It held so many versions of myself. Some incredibly happy ones. Some really fucking sad ones. Some versions of me that I barely recognise anymore.

Eventually over time, Pepetoe started to feel like somewhere I was hiding. Not intentionally. I just realised that if I was going to keep writing – properly writing – I didn’t want to do it behind another name anymore.

And so, Pepetoe became Elena Overfield.

My name. Just me. And I think that was the first rebrand. This is 2.0. And apparently, all it took was a trip to the hairdressers. Hellooooo brunette Ellie.

For the first time in years, I looked in the mirror and saw dark hair again. My natural colour. Or at least, much closer to it. And there was something weirdly emotional about it. It felt like coming home, which is ironic, because I think that’s exactly what this entire year has been about. Coming back to myself.

Not necessarily the person I used to be. I don’t think you can ever truly go backwards, nor would I want to. Too much has happened. I’ve loved people, lost people, hurt people, forgiven people. I’ve been hurt. I’ve relapsed. I’ve recovered parts of myself and lost others. I’ve made some fucking terrible decisions and some really brave ones. I’ve learnt things about myself that I desperately wish weren’t true and others that I wish I’d understood years ago.

Through all of it, I think I’ve slowly stopped trying to package myself into something easier to digest. That’s what I want Elena Overfield to be. Not a brand in the traditional sense. Actually, almost the opposite. I don’t want to create a polished internet version of myself and carefully decide which pieces of Elena are palatable enough to publish. I want all of her here. The funny bits. The stupid bits. Hockey. Relationships. Body image. Eating disorder recovery. Relapse. Sex. Friendship. Love. Shame. Anxiety. Anger. Trauma. The things I’ve survived and the things I’ve caused. The things I’ve figured out and the things I’m still spectacularly fucking confused about. The light stuff can sit next to the dark stuff, because that’s how actual people work. I’m not interested anymore in pretending I’ve learnt a lesson just because I can articulate it beautifully in 1,500 words. Sometimes I’ll write an entire blog about something and then completely contradict myself the following Tuesday.

That’s being human.

Maybe the blonde hair belonged to a version of me who was trying to become something, and brunette Ellie feels like someone who is finally more interested in being something. Me.

There’s something poetic about stripping away the bleach at the same time as I’ve been stripping away so many other things. The need to be liked by everyone. The need to keep everyone. The need to have everything figured out. The need to hide the uglier parts of my story because somebody might decide they don’t like me anymore. The need to make my life look cleaner than it actually is.

Brown hair isn’t exactly a personality transformation. I’m aware of that. However, sometimes tiny external changes arrive at exactly the right moment internally. Right now, looking a little more like the girl I started as somehow makes me feel even closer to the woman I’m becoming.

Maybe that’s what The Rebrand 2.0 actually is. Not becoming someone new. Not reinventing myself. Not drawing a line through everything that happened before and announcing a shiny new era. Quite the opposite. It’s taking every version of myself with me. Pepetoe. Blonde Ellie. Brunette Ellie. Little Ellie. Hockey Ellie. Broken Ellie. Recovering Ellie. Fucked-up Ellie. Crazy Ellie. Happy Ellie. The version who made mistakes. The version who survived them. The version writing this now. They’re all still me.

So, maybe this isn’t really a rebrand at all. Maybe I’m just finally putting my own name on all of it: Elena Overfield. Brown hair and all. Feels a bit more like home.