New year, same perspective, with open minds and hearts to what this trip around the sun will bring! Happy new beginnings!
It was Jessep who posted this gif on his page, I took my screen shot and felt satisfied with what the universe tuned in for me. I had no intentions of buzzing my hair off when I took this, I really haven’t given it much thought recently at all! But, as the image says… I can’t wonder… I would be manifesting this in the days to come!
I have been half-joking about shaving my head since after my oldest was born.
I would make remarks at myself in the bathroom mirror in earshot of Shayne, “Ugggghhhhh, I wanna shave my head.”
Or, this one, “If I shaved my head would you still love me?”
He would always, always say, “Yes, but I don’t want you to.”
Or when I would ask him if I could use his clippers to shave my head, he’d laugh, but refuse to let me entertain the idea. He was trying to protect me from myself. I think even then I knew I wasn’t ready and he knew that, too. I have to know somehow he knew someday I would, but… it definitely wasn’t happening with his clippers.
Truth is, I’ve never been attached to my hair. Ever. It’s never been the part of me I have loved or hid behind or felt was defining my femininity. I have never been the chick with “great hair.” It’s fine, and thin, and straight as a board. For the better part of my adult life its been short, and gotten shorter and finally I had it chopped all off into a pixie a few years ago. I’m grateful for it, but I have never defined my beauty – or sexuality – with my hair. I’ve embraced what it is and my focus went elsewhere.
So here we are!
New year, let’s finally do what I have been wanting to for years. #2 it!
I was cooking up dinner and said out loud with a drag to JMag, “I wanna shave my head. I’m tired of my hairrrrrrr.”
With zero hesitation, “Alright, when? I’ll do it.”
I had to put up or shut up. Finally, I was being given the path of no resistance to do what I have secretly really wanted to do! After mulling it over for a few minutes, thinking over the “consequences” and perusing Pinterest of bald women beauties, and a few text messages to my inner circle who I knew would push me with support… I shot up and said, “Alright, lets do it.” And he followed me into the bathroom and plugged in the clippers.
I am reading a book called, “Attached: The New Science of Adult Attachment And How it Can Help You Find – And Keep – Love” by Levine & Heller. (I believe wholeheartedly, if you are a widow and had it with “grief” books and want to get technical… this is it, this is for you, a mind-opening read).
In it they describe adult attachment styles as they pertain to relationships.
In their findings from conducting research and experiments, finding someone – a mate – is a biological, innate predisposition for all of us. And once we do, right down to our physiology changes. Our blood pressure, heartbeat, all of it becomes in sync with this person being close to us, near us, and we begin to equate feeling intimacy with this person with safety. When we feel safe with someone, what can we do? A lot! Dream with them. Set goals with them.
Do otherwise scary things with our partner because we know, deep deep down, they will not forsake us.
That’s how I know this person is my person.
There’s a calming effect. A sigh of relief that the scary things aren’t really at all so scary. And the added perspective that I have lost a great deal in my life in the last 2 years, chopping of my hair in the grand scheme of what I have experienced is truly, small potatoes.
I felt a heavy panicked pang of fear right as he turned the clippers on. Like, a real sense of holy shit. But I said out loud to him, “If I didn’t fear what people thought, I would do it.”
Afterward, he nudged me to write about it.
That’s what I want to do. Feel the fear and do it anyway. That’s what I want the rest of my life to be about. All these things I have always wanted to do, I don’t need to fear them anymore.
Because no one’s opinion (or disdain or confusion) about what and how and why I do things gives me an ounce of validation or permission to be secure in my version of happy in this life.
And, after all, it’s hair. It’s hair. My face is the same. It’s.just.hair. It’s miraculous because…. it grows back!
It’s not some grandiose act of rebellion, or crisis, or feminism. Its from me to me.
I am so much more than short, platinum blonde hair. I was before I bleached it May 2016. Still am now that it’s in a ziplock bag and I am looking more Sinead than Gwen Stefani.
It’s a harmless exercise in owning my body and my life. No harm to my body, my family or any one thing was done. I am still here, still alive and going to live the way I want, look the way I want, before someone decides my time is up, which can be any given day.
I am not ignorant to the fact that I may be challenging someone’s belief that a woman of my age with small children should look a certain way – not mine, but at the end of a long day… its my noggin’ that hits my comfy pillow. Its me. And mine. And its not up to anyone else how that pillow on my now soft, fuzzy bald head feels.
I have done a lot of changing the last 5 years and gone through enough evolution in my health, body and hair to know this: if someone is changing, or has done something that is improving their sense of self or clearly making them feel GOOD and feeling full of life, no reason for anything but support. They’re expressing their confidence with living this life fully. That is an awesome privilege of still having a beating heart.
My perspective is, plenty of amazing people are gone too soon that don’t get to experience anymore moments of feeling their own courage.
They are gone too soon and don’t get to do harmless, empowering things that make them learn a lesson either about themselves or the world or the thing.
People are gone too soon who never truly had the opportunity to feel their fears and just do it anyway.
And how lucky am I that when I initially messaged a few of my inner circle, I was immediately met with high-fives and encouragement. Because that’s what secure, loving people do. They push on you to pursue your happiness.
How lucky am I that I have found my person that let’s me run at full tilt, scared and fearing, letting me find out what I am made of. Secure in himself, and our relationship, to let me wander through these moments of, “Can I?” “Should I?” And says, “Yes!” and pushes me out onto the ledge.
Find your person that unlocks the gate for you and swings it wide open. Love grows there. Respect grows there. You will always receive what you have given.
New year, but I’m still me, sure with a new ‘do, but already a little more perspective than I had yesterday. My heart still beats the same but I do have bigger love for my support system and JMag. And less attachment to a belief system that tells me I need to look a certain way or behave a certain way in order to have a good life.
I’ve given up a lot of control of what my life should look like, and on full course to embrace it for everything that it is. True happiness.
Loving EVERY crazy minute… a turn of the page in the calendar year wasn’t going to change that.
If you didn’t fear what people thought of you, what would you do? Go do that. It’s empowerment personified. Let that fear fall away, let that shit go!