Shave and a Hair Cut...two bits!

O.K...so we don't actually have to talk about the shave. A girl has to have SOME secrets! But I did get a hair cut today. I make a conscious effort not to use the word hate, but I HATE getting my hair cut. I have an unhealthy love for my hair. I think of it as a bit of a Sampson complex...you know the biblical character who got his strength from his hair! Actually it's probably just vanity. When I was young I had very boyish features, and I was always the tallest kid around, so when I had short hair I was mistaken for a boy...Of course in those days I thought that meant I looked like I had cooties! Ew!

So anyway. I have found a wonderful stylist who gets that I am not one of those lucky women who loves to spend lots of money to be pampered. Wash, condition, treat, lovingly cut and style and look like you just walked off a movie screen when you walk out the door. Yuck! Just cut my damn hair and let me go. Too expensive, time-consuming, and there is the whole thing about cutting my precious hair! True story...I used to go to a new stylist, get in the chair and say, "Do you have children?" If the stylist said yes, I would say "Well you should know that I love my hair more than you love your children. Now go ahead!" I only had to say that to my current stylist once, and now she apologizes every time she has to cut off more than a millimetre. She cuts my hair dry, and sends me on my way.

Did I mention I got my hair cut today? I mean really cut! No REALLY! At least four inches of my prized hair! My fault, and here comes the relevance...

I have been colouring my own hair for years...there's that vanity thing again...I will be blonde 'til I die! I always had great success, and I've had many stylists tell me that my hair is very healthy (maybe they were just afraid of me...can't say I blame them!). Well, a couple of weeks ago I fried my poor tortured locks. Deep fried, charbroiled, burned to a crisp. What a mess. When it's wet, it feels like mud, and when it's dry, it looks a little like mud...is there blonde mud? Well, anyway. I confessed to my stylist and made an appointment for a cut.

As I reflect on my life on my new journey, I look at things so much differently than before, and try to relate to things in a new way. So I looked at all that dry crinkled hair on the floor, and thought about the last 13 years or so of my life. It compares beautifully and puts things into perspective in a way I had never considered before.

There was this hair, no longer any good to me, removed from my head to make way for beautiful hair underneath to grow and develop. I had done things to ruin it, I take responsibility for that. But none of it matters now. That hair is under another pile of hair in a garbage can at the salon by now. It's of no use to me, except that I have learned a lesson about playing computer games while I have colour on my hair! It's gone, no sense crying over it. I walked away from it in the salon, and while I may think about it every time I run a brush through my hair for the next few days, I know it has shaped my new style which is going to be so much better in the end.

So goes the events of my life in the past years. I have been the cause of many of the things that led me on the wrong path. I take responsibility. And I have mourned for far too long. And why? It's no good to me any more, and what's underneath is becoming so much more beautiful. I am learning not to shove my life into a ponytail to hide the split ends anymore. I made a mess, I cleaned it up, and now I am moving on.

Besides...I have a bag on my dresser with beautiful 20 inch hair extensions as my plan "B". Just like I have a heart inside that's learning to make my life more beautiful than even the finest hair could ever be!