The Whole Hairy Story

Didn’t Ghandi say that “You must be the change you wish to see in the world?” Well, then, in my case, I must have wanted the world to all start getting really fashion forward haircuts.

No, really, I wasn’t being that optimistic. I don’t have near that kind of faith in the world. I was, however, looking for change. Normally I’m the type to hate change. Change change change cry cry sad moan moan weep blah blah blah. But I didn’t care. This is previously coming from the girl who had suuuuppper long locks. (Think Laura Ingalls but with no braids or buck teeth.) Going to get my mane even trimmed an inch was agonizing.

But I just needed to get it cut. I needed to be different. I can’t explain it. But I had it whacked off and I didn’t bat an eyelash. I briefly wondered if it would be cool to have my stylist shave it, and then I could've started wearing cut-offs and smoked Lucky Strikes and hung out with punk-rock people who have long thin hair and wear circular eyeglasses, like Harry Potter but much much cooler. But then I thought about Britney Spears and totally realized that she ruined the impression we have of people everywhere who shave their heads. I mean, when Husband shaved his, I didn’t necessarily think emotional ruin and basket-case, but I DID think convicted rapist and/or ex-con. Holy oh my moly I’m digressing.

So I cut it.

That night, after I had cut it AND loved it, I woke up after only a few hours sleep. I opened my eyes and stared at the curtains for awhile, then promptly burst into tears. These weren’t a few lady-like, cleansing tears. These were sobs that hurt me so much they left me gasping.

B awoke to my tears and stroked my newly cut hair. He said, “Maybe you’re crying because you wanted so much to be different, so you cut your hair, but then you realized that you haven’t completely done all the changing you want (yet) on the inside. You still have elements of your eating disorder, and I know you still hurt. But I still love you. I love you because you keep trying to change.”

And then I calmed. Because I knew that B had gotten it exactly right. I knew that I had wanted to change…to change in any way I could. And I still believe that one day my insides can get a new haircut. A better one. Maybe not as fashion forward, and certainly not impulsively shaved, but maybe just a trim to get out all the heavy stuff in there, all the damaged ends. Clean it up a bit, you know?

So, while I continue to prepare for the Inner Haircut that it seems I’ve been working toward for, oh, you know, years, I’ll keep thinking, keep striving at trimming and snipping. We all know how attached we girls get to our hair, right? Inner/emotional hair is no different.

And yes, I realize all these ill-conceived metaphors may make it seem like I have an unduly amount of pubic hair. I do not. It is all purely metaphorical. I think.

Now, raise your hand if I've totally inspired you to go buy the latest issue of Glam Hair and schedule with your stylist!