I have this thing about my hair.
My hair, and finding shoes for my feet are the bane of my existence. Now trust me, considering I lost my first husband to cancer and saw more horrors than I ever imagined existed through my journey of cancer with him, I feel like a HUGE jerk that I make such a big deal about such things. For some reason, though, I have a hang up with my hair. (Even when I was going through Andy’s cancer and should have known not to sweat the small stuff, I STILL flipped over hair traumas. Here’s a tip for life, if your husband gets cancer, don’t go chop off all your hair. It makes life even crappier. It may work in Steel Magnolias, but let me tell you, not in real life.) Back to hair…If you went to HS with me and are reading this, you know I have a thing about hair. I remember overhearing someone after I graduated from HS talking about me and saying, “Betsy? Yea, I remember her….she was always worried about her hair.” (Now, that was a sucky moment…) Anyway, I’m admitting that I’m kind of ridiculous about it.
So I had to make the decision to leave my stylist a couple months ago. She was on the north side of town, and if you live in FW, you pretty much pick a side of town and try to stay there. (It’s so silly considering the size of our city, but FW, don’t I speak the truth?) So the 30 minute drive to my hair chick was adding an hour to an already 2+ hour process and right now, between my packed shooting schedule, my teeeeeny tiny amount of babysitting help I get and of course, my role as mom, I needed that hour I was driving to and from the salon.
I really of put off finding another stylist. I put it off until 5 days before leaving for my super important photography workshop this weekend. I put off finding a stylist until all I could do with my hair was put a hat on. It was procrastination at it’s finest…or worst.
I got alllll sorts of great advice from facebook friends on choosing a new stylist and of course, these stylists were booked 5 days in advance, or at least according to the very small window of availability I had this week.
So I tried a new stylist at a new salon a handful of minutes away from me. I was excited for the change but once I got there, I was SCARED out of my mind. Honestly, this poor girl had no idea what was going to be hitting her when I walked in. I really didn’t realize how freaked I was until she started talking about all the changes she saw for me. I’ll spare you the details, but she wanted to put highlights around my face and we decided to just put a few in on each side of my head to ease me into highlights. As she is doing it, I’m thinking I’ll look like Bride of Frankestine. I didn’t trust this poor girl and I was PANICKING on the inside. Like crazy heart rate and I was literally shaking in my chair. So I just tried hard to chill, but when she started drying my hair (which is a part where you have to have faith because my hair in mid dry mode is UGLY no matter how great the cut.) The highlights just looked like gross orange blonde. I was SO depressed. It was awful.
I hated it. Have you ever gotten your hair cut and you hate it so much that you just can’t say anything? You can’t even lie? You just sit there and nod and smile so you can get out of there? Yep, that was me. I felt like SUCH a jerk. So I got out of there and I told myself I would not cry though that wasn’t looking good. Thankfully, I got a call from Bobbi right before I was about to lose it. (Photography talk can always get me in a good mood and it totally helped. THANK YOU Bobbi!)
All right, so long story short, I walked in the house and I was so angry (because to top it all off, I was missing 30 Rock) that I just started watching 30 Rock that was playing in the kitchen. In the meantime, John, was standing there just staring at me and smiling the kindest smile ever. I looked at him, as if to say, I’m so sorry I did this to myself, and he said, “I love it. You look adorable.” I could tell by the look in his eyes he really meant it.
After an awesome release of laughing at 30 Rock (wasn’t it a great episode?) we talked it through and I was able to look at myself in the mirror and really see myself. I think the experience of being afraid at the salon had me so freaked out that I couldn’t like what the end result was. Also, I was embarrassed at how much of a lack of style I had before. I have had “mom hair” for way longer than I have been a mom and I got comfortable with it. So I do like it. I just can’t believe how resistant I was to change! I try to grow and expand everyday with my work, but I can’t take a new haircut? Not even that, but I let it traumatize me? Jeez, I need to GET A GRIP!
Ok, so I just wrote like 6 paragraphs about my hair. Ridiculous. Sorry, I had to get it out. There has to be some crazy deep rooted emotional issue that is linked with my hair. I think I’m actually going to keep forcing myself to try new hairstylist for the rest of the year until I can get over this fear. (Watch out Fort Wayne!) I need to learn to let this hair craziness go and embrace change!
So here I am, once I got home. It probably doesn’t even look that different in this photo. Jeez! I”m such a drama queen. (eye roll) Thanks for the photo John! (PS Can you see the photo behind me that’s blurry? It’s a yawning pug wearing a wig. I LOVE it.)
PS I bought that scarf and belt tonight doing some emotional shopping after my appointment. I’m in LOVE with scarves right now. Too bad the belt is too big.
Ok, ENOUGH of my foolishness about me! Here’s my little Miles man who upon discovering this new hat of mine, promptly put it on and looked adorable. (it’s HOT PINK.) I did NOTHING in Photoshop to Miles’ skin here and to me, it just glows with softness. Oh my, his cheeks are the softest marshmallows imaginable. I attack him with kisses EVERY chance I get.
I”m shushing now. Thanks for letting me get all of this out!!! Thanks to everybody in the facebook and twitter world who helped me through my panic attack at the salon. 🙂