Wednesday, January 3, 2024

Chopped

Inspirational song: Mad Man Moon (Genesis)

I'm not sure how deeply to dig into the reasons I wore my hair long for so many years. Some of it was to please others. Some was because I didn't want to allot my funds to something as frivolous as a hair stylist. After chemo, I was so afraid that if I cut off the curls, they would disappear and I'd have straight hair again.

None of these were reasons that could last forever. Eventually I had to get over myself (and over the anxiety of going someplace new), and pay someone to fix the sloppy job I did when I cut it myself the last two times. I couldn't face holding my arms behind my head for an hour one more time. My housemate recommended the salon where they go, up in Loveland, and the ease of making an appointment online sealed the deal. 

I sent a goofy "before" picture to the kids, of me in pajamas, no makeup, and my hair messy from bed. The caption I used wasn't clearly stated, so one of my daughters assumed I had cut it again myself, and said it looked good. Not sure what to make of that.

The salon experience was such a relief. I am not 100% sure, but I think it has been over 10 years since I allowed a professional to have access to my hair. I tamped down my controlling nature and just let her do whatever she wanted. I didn't even read the ingredients on products to look for wheat protein or anything. As she cut, my hair bounced and curled in gratitude for losing length and weight. She put in some product and diffused it, and I left there a happy woman. So much nicer than half-assing it myself.

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