Or, Musings on Appearance and Inner Beauty
Last week I took the plunge and got about 6 inches of my hair chopped off. Why? Because with a head of thick wavy-to-curly hair and a thin face, I was feeling a bit like a needle in a haystack.
Before I went to my hair appointment, my husband reassured me that he’d love me no matter how I looked – or what I did with my hair. We discussed different styles; I told him my current frustrations, along with my concerns and fears. One of these was that I would end up looking like…
At the salon, my hairdresser looked at the pictures I brought (all short styles), but seemed hesitant to do what I asked. Afraid of insisting on what I wanted – and perhaps discovering how wrong I was – I deferred and agreed to try an in-between style with a short back and long front. The result was that I came away looking like…
As I left the salon, I felt shell-shocked, embarrassed, and actually agitated. I stole furtive glances at passerbys to see if they were reeling in horror. Surprisingly, they didn’t seem to be staring, let alone noticing me at all! When I bumped into an acquaintance that evening on the subway, he made no mention of my vegetative state and chatted with me as if nothing was amiss.
I’ve decided to embrace my new look as “unique”, fresh and youthful…the new me. (Ok, that’s not quite true. I’ve got another haircut booked for today.)
“Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.”