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On Saturday, I turned the boys over to McRuger and drove the 30 minutes to my stylist’s place. When I walked out an hour later, I had significantly less hair…think pixie cut. Well, in actuality, it is a pixie cut. My hair is short. Boy short. Pixie short. I like it and I don’t at the same time.
I have an odd relationship with my hair. When I was a child, my hair was long and unruly. Knots appeared out of no where and it was a fight to keep it “in line”. My parents, neither particularly gifted in self-care (and not having the money/time for professional hair care), didn’t quite know how to do anything with mine. So, I never really learned how do anything fancy with it. Dad, in his “let’s keep this easy” phase…gave Bro and I the same hair cut for years…it wasn’t pretty. I rebelled and let my hair grow and grow for years…it was past my lower back when I finally got it cut again. I got a perm in 8th grade that made me look like a lion. And, then lots of experimentation with color (I’ve had it dyed everything from purple to orange to platinum to black) and high lights and cuts and more. My hair became something I controlled, instead of other people. And, because hair can grow and change…I enjoyed experimenting with it.
When I got married my hair was longish (shoulder length) and highlighted with blond. McRuger liked it, but he didn’t particularly care what my hair looked like. Sometime around then, I became okay with just having my hair be my hair.
My hair is curly, fine, and a shade of deep brown that can look mousey or stunning…depending on the light. I have greys coming in, which I love and never try to hide. And, generally, for the last 8 years I have had the same cut…an asymmetrical bob which gave my roundish face a bit of length. It was the classic “mom-do”.
For the last few weeks, however, I knew I was going to do something a bit drastic with my hair. Call it a fight for some control in my life or just the need for something different. And, plus, the medications and body changes have made my hair feel different… So, I’ve been scouring Pinte.rest for ideas. I even e-mailed my stylist and asked her to bring some pictures for what might work with my face.
I came to my appointment with pictures, requests, and suggestions. My stylist (whom I adore and have been seeing for 8 years) came with her own. We had the same idea…let’s go short.
I can safely say, it’s a bit more work having really short hair…but it gives me a bit of freedom too. I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror and wonder who that is. Who is this version of Rain? What changes are happening? How do I feel about this in my life? How am I changing? Crazy to think that just a hair cut can make me think about so much.
As for Mel’s question of what’s my non-dangerous pet peeve….
I’d have to say right now it’s people giving me unsolicited advice about how to heal my liver condition naturally. No, rubbing virgin coconut oil over my liver will not solve my problems. Neither will cinnamon tea or eliminating all fats or drinking vast quantities of specially formulated (?) water. Changing my body position while I sleep will not have a huge impact on my liver health, and neither will changing my body wash (I use an organic castile soap….). I have have a medical team, thank you. They are doing a pretty good job of helping me. And if your cousin’s-sister’s-best friend’s daughter’s boyfriend cured his cirrhotic liver by taking weekly dips in the neighborhood mineral spa…good for him. I’ll stick to Western medicine for the moment.