There I Am!

 

Back in my 30's I decided I wanted to grow my hair out. I had kept short cuts since High School, and thought (I guess) it would be fun, or sexy, or who knows what was rattling around in my head. After several false starts including a disaster trip to a beautician after mine moved to Colorado that could only be fixed by going extremely short, I finally had hair down my back. Which I almost always kept in a messy bun at the nap of my neck. 

My son, who was born not quite two weeks before my 41st birthday, had never seen me with short hair. I just didn't think about it. I quit dying it and my natural hair is dark while my skin is fair and they never really matched. The dark hair made me look sick, but life was busy so I just didn't think about it.

Zoom ahead 20+ years. My hair, already beginning to thin really fell out after I got Covid in 2020 before there was a vaccine. My "oh, well" became "OMG! Ick!" Then, after thinking on it and getting a nudge from b/h/p (boyfriend/husband/partner for those out of the loop) I made the appointment and decided on a "Choppy Bob" before even showing up. The beautician, who I loved, assured me it was a great cut for me and helped me remember how to care for a short 'do. I had 11 inches cut off! I plan to donate it, but it's too short for some places. For the time being it's stored safely. I take after my maternal grandmother. She passed at 79 and was still salt and pepper, though more salt than pepper. So at 60 I have very little grey hair on my head. On my head. Do I have grey eyelashes? Yes. Grey pubes? My first grey hair was there. It's like a warped Dorian Gray. Instead of an aging painting in the attic, I'm storing my grey hair mostly in my "basement".

Anyway, I got home feeling pretty good. I even stopped and bought hair color, medium blonde, and used it immediately. That night while getting ready for bed I was washing my face. It was covered in suds, and I looked up in the mirror. With the suds covering all the wrinkles, the face looking back was that young woman I used to be! I gasped and blurted out "There I am!" It was like meeting a dear friend you haven't seen in decades and are shocked yet totally overjoyed. My heart raced and my eyes teared up. I missed her. I wasn't able to repeat that moment, though of course I tried the next night, but to have experienced it that once changed something inside me. I don't know if I can explain it. It flipped a switch I guess? I'm happier knowing "she's" not really gone, because I AM her. 

What I learned:

Maybe mirrors aren't my enemy after all. 

And maybe I'm ready to love my wrinkled, saggy, flawed self. Sure, it won't be easy, but I'm ready. As long as naps are provided.