Finding Forty, Day 86; Shortcomings

On a whim today, I got a hair cut.  My plan was to take son #1 to a hip, happenin' barber shop to get his unruly hair tamed a bit.    A and I have pretty straight hair and our son's curls seem to defy our genetics.   When I noticed his mop top looked more like a throw rug, I knew something had to be done.   Our regular stylist was booked, but she recommended a place that is a city wide favorite and off we traipsed to have magic worked on his hair.

During the drive over, I started pondering something for myself.   I'd been feeling antsy all day and thought that a new outfit might do the trick.   Considering how broke we are and the fact that I do, actually, intend to lose these 10 pounds I've gained over the past year, I didn't want to buy something new that I might not fit into in a month.

But a new hairstyle...well, that sounded enticing!

For the past few years I've worn my hair shoulder length, with varying degrees of slightly above or slightly below.   I like my hair long, it makes me feel young and okay, I'll confess, sexy.  

Mostly though, I'd let it air dry and throw it into a ponytail because I'm lazy like that.

My regular hair girl is fantastic and I trust her completely, but she's been hesitant to do anything drastic with my hair because she knows the frail mental state I've been in all year.   She always warns me that it's best to wait to do something radically different until after the smoke clears.

While there is still a definite layer of smog surrounding me, I do think I can see clearer patches on the horizon.  And with that knowledge and a bit of a rebellious spark flickering in me, I put my name on the list to get my hair cut at the same place I'd taken my first born.

The stylist I got was of course a stranger to me, but she was intriguing and so beautiful with her spiky, two toned mohawk and her skinny jeans and Converse.   I was smitten with her to say the least.

As I sat in her chair, she asked what the plan was and I pretty much gave her free reign.   I told her my year had been shitty and I wanted something to perk me up.

An hour later, my hair was 4 inches shorter and oh, so sassy.   I loved it immediately and am happy with the fact that I dared to try something new.

For the longest time, I've toyed with a shorter do, but always held back because S loves long hair.   Yes, I'm embarrassed to admit that I let that keep me from doing something I wanted, but it's true.  I didn't want to do anything that might turn him off.   Turns out, even when doing my level best to turn him on, he still pushed me away.  

Today wasn't an act of spite, but more a recognition that I deserve to be me, for me, the way I want.  Not only does my hair feel lighter, my spirit does too!

It's a great feeling.

Besides, it's only hair.  It'll grow back.

Much like my confidence and faith in things turning out alright seems to be doing.