She Let Herself Go

I sat down in the chair as she draped the cape over my shoulders and turned me to face the mirror.  We both stared at our reflections.  “What are we doing today?” She asked.  “I have no idea.” I replied as I swallowed a lump in my throat and felt the beginning of warm tears fill my eyes.  “I used to be the girl who knew.” I whispered.

I have had deep love and affection for 4 hair stylists in my life.  5 if you count the 1 from my 10 year old self who broke it to my mother and me that I had head lice after spending a week at summer camp.  She continued to wash and cut all of my hair off as a result when she could have simply asked me to leave upon the first nit found.  My souvenir head lice was very telling of my week away.

Mary - Trisha - Melina and now Renee (pronounced Rainy)

They have each come into my life as gifts in seasons when I needed so much more than a cut or color.  They hold a piece of me and I of them I think.

Having moved 2 months prior and knowing no one in the hair care industry, I remember following my 91 year old mother in law into her salon in hopes of making my own appointment.  

Salon Christianne.  It feels like a little something even in its title doesn’t it? I got in with Renee the following week. I used to have the cutest and most stylish cuts and yet I didn’t feel those were right for this time.  Instead I just wanted to focus on getting control of this “grow out gray” process.  I had said for a bit too long that I was really rocking that “She really let herself go” look. 

The year of contemplation followed by the 100 degree move (from all I had ever known and from so many that I have loved deeply) to an even hotter land had me feeling a smidge drab.  I was determined to let my hair continue to grow to what was becoming my natural gray, not cute gray but a dull gray, but natural none the less.  I would welcome a few highlights to help its transition but other than that just a simple cut would do. And so I scrolled and saved for inspiration and in the end thought way too much about my hair.

I have never been vain about hair.  I have known it is a gift that if you are lucky you have some that promises to grow back even after the worst choices.  Somewhere there is a photograph of me 8 months pregnant while washing dishes.  The fact that you cannot see the sink because of my fresh 70 pounds gained takes second only to the fact that on my neck there is razor stubble as a result of cutting my hair so short it exceeded upwards of my natural hairline. 

Trust me.  Not sexy.  At all. 

I’m sure I cried about it at that point but I am also sure it was mostly hormone related and not because of short hair.  Rick, however, was probably quietly weeping in a closet somewhere wondering what became of the woman he married, the woman with long hair and a spunky spirit who loved his dog and hockey.  In my defense, I thought he could close drawers properly.  Both of us were a little misled.

Together Renee and I have cultivated a relationship since then that is mostly hilarious and centers around our love for our dogs, Margot and Louie.  (Yes, Margot is also the name of Rick’s mom which is funny in its own right:) We have also told some truths 

that remind us that the hair chair is equally as powerful as the therapist’s couch. So I, of course, love her.  Even though I go long stretches between appointments as I always have, we pick up right where we left off.  This had been a long stretch.  

No color.  No cut.  Just me and a pony tail holder, a clip and an occasional wash and blow out.  This had been somewhat intentional both for the grow out process and our wallet.  These treatments ain’t cheap.

“We don’t mind you going gray but none of us like the way it is just hangs there.  None of us.  But I love you enough to tell you the truth.” this unnamed person said.  How does one feel about such a statement?  How does one truly feel about the way they are depicted on FaceTime anyway?  Again, I’m not vain about my hair but then again maybe I am.  I didn’t think I was hurt but maybe I was.  

These past months have held so many things for us.  Trying things, fun things, difficult things, chlorine things (we love the pool that we always knew we would).  All the things.  I knew I didn’t feel quite myself as of late.  My gosh if anyone has ever experienced living in a home with concrete floors, that’s enough to really do a number on you.  We have learned that good house shoes are essential.  Our lower backs, knees and on down to our feet don’t get sore, they out and out hurt.  So we get up a little slower.  Stretch a bit more often and sometimes make those weird old people groans.  It’s true. 

My clothes don’t seem quite right now be it the extra 15 pounds put on since moving because let’s face it when we move out of our parents house and then in turn have kids you simply go from hiding some things from one to another.  I mean who is going to side eye me for having a cocktail at 2?  Rick?  Please. 

Maybe it is that I have worked for so long and a big part of that was getting dressed up to go and graciously accepting the compliments for a blouse found at Good Will or a pair of winter white pants that others may not think to wear.  My skin is a bit dull and losing some of its elasticity.  It happens.  I’m 54.  

We have been balancing being present for the entire season from Thanksgiving to New Years with different family members in different ways and it has been wonderful.  I am also a caretaker and be it the meals planned and prepared, the gifts wrapped or anything really that requires being mindful, I have aimed to be. 

We have tried to keep in good touch with family and friends that we have moved from while making new friends here in Greenville. I am also working from home for a company and with people that I love but I have never worked from home before.  The schedule is a bit wonky until it is set and even though for the first week I swore to “dress for success”, I sit here today at the close of my work day in sweats and yesterday’s shower.  We have been trying to follow a deep calling to launch our own endeavor with a podcast that I believe to be so much more.  We are uncertain about many things beyond today which require us to take God at His word and not be anxious but be thankful that we are sitting right here in prayers answered. 

It is good.  It is hard.  I am sorry to have forgotten about my hair.

My husband of 33 years and I bought a box color.  He brushed on color to all the parts of my hair I could not reach to blend more of the gray. This is love.

And so I sat looking at Renee as she put down her comb and began rubbing my shoulders saying “you are ok.  You are ok.”  

I took out my phone and showed her the cute and trendy cut that I was ready to get in hopes of getting my groove back.  And she so kindly and in her own way said, “You are not ok.”

“I believe we should do a baby step as your hair has gotten so long.  We will put in some layers that will give you a lift.  It will be good and if you don’t like it, well, then you can call me tomorrow and come right back.”  She took my phone and sat it on the counter to lead me back to the sink.  And there we sat for at least 15 minutes while she washed my hair and massaged my scalp and talked about her upcoming trip to Scotland where they are set to visit a Penis Museum. 

“What?” I asked thinking my senses dulled and my ears a bit murky with shampoo.  “That’s right, it’s a museum of penises.” She replied.  “Please tell me they are going to have sculptures of all kinds and every ethnicity so that we can clear up these rumors once and for all?!” I said.  The ladies at the next 2 sinks took notice and chuckled politely.  “No I think it’s like whales and other animals.” She laughed.  “Oh, come on.  Please.  Please bring me back a small token from said museum of penii” I begged.  “I will put you on the list.  I promise.” She said, reassuring me there were indeed a few requests before mine. 

Priceless.  A tourist destination in Scotland.  Who knew?

Before it was my turn with Renee that day, it was Rick’s.   Before sitting down in her chair myself he had been there to get his hair cut.  Just finishing up, I got to sit for his eyebrow trim and I thought, there.  Right there is another great irony.  I have to fill mine in with a pencil as he has to keep his in check.  We laughed about some things, the three of us and she said “You guys are so funny!  You must keep each other laughing all the time!” 

“F*%$?+@! hilarious, aren’t we Rick?” I sang.  (Sorry mom but this is exactly what I am talking about when I say a perfectly placed F bomb is indeed quite funny.) 

He then left me to my own time in the chair and what I realized was this.  Layers or time with her to let some feels out, whichever it was, lifted a weight from my shoulders.  I became unburdened.  Through those harsh words spoken about my hair of all things, I had chosen gratitude and humor and even the acknowledgement that there was some truth.  I saw myself a bit more clear in this evolution, this letting go.  

I am a beauty.  My skin is a bit duller.   My knees are a bit achier.  My front tooth bends to the left from a time when I was a kid and took a corner out of our coffee table with my mouth.  My midsection requires a little extra real estate. And yet I am still a beauty.  

Mine is coming from deep within where the LORD is at work each and every day.  I am a beauty. 

There are many scriptures in the Bible that speak to the radiance of the LORD showing up on the faces of his people and I know that to be true but here I am going to share the truth of it as said by John Mayer.

“If you’re pretty, you’re pretty; 

but the only way to be beautiful is to be loving.  

Otherwise, it’s just congratulations about your face.”

I have also been humbled.  With my new spunkier, shinier hair we took to church the next day.  Before going I pulled out an old dress long since worn and a pair of tights.   

As Rick rounded the corner he witnessed me trying to pull on those tights with my achey knees and extra pounds on a concrete floor.  We spoke no words.  He simply left me with dignity.  Bless.

The truth is I know a lot of things.  I just needed a little help with my hair.