When I was a child, probably seven or eight years old, I cut a chunk of hair from my head to see what I’d look like with bangs. I didn’t ask permission nor did I get in trouble. And I didn’t ask to be taken to a hair dresser to cut the rest of my bangs nor did I attempt to cut the rest myself. So there I went, perfectly happy with partial bangs. Just a little chunk of hair hanging on one side of my forehead. (If there are enough requests I will dig up a picture.)
Yesterday, I nearly cut my own bangs. Again. I had the hair shears out and poised when a sign warned me not to do it myself (I’ll spare you the details of the sign). After years of the same long hair, I was bored. In days gone by, I would dye my hair when I got bored. Now, I adore the natural depth and shine of my dark brown hair. Even with the sprinkling of grey clearly apparent.
What’s a woman to do when she’s inkling for a change, but reluctant to lose her long locks? Why, she cuts just some of her hair, of course. Like she did as a girl. Although back then, it was an odd choice of hairs to cut.
Actually, I’ve considered cutting my bangs (off and on) for years. What took so long for me to finally pull out the shears? What changed?
I am learning to recognize and revere my truths rather than ignore or run from them. (And yes, your truths count for everything, even something as trivial as how you want to wear your hair.) As I make a conscious effort to return to my true self, I find myself returning to the same activities I enjoyed or displaying the same quirks I had as a child. Before the world’s influences and life’s responsibilities started to take their toll and distract me from my purpose, my truth. I wanted bangs then, I wanted bangs now. This is only one example of many. A shallow spot in the blue abyss. A silly story about my quirky true self. One that I’m actually willing to share with the public for sake of illustration.
It took a wee bit of courage, but I did have my bangs cut (by a professional this time, which proves that I have matured) and I love them. I feel more like myself somehow. Perhaps I even look a bit more like a mom, a bit older than I did before. Which isn’t the worst thing in the world considering that I am someone’s mother. And I am getting older. And I am loving every second of it.
Here’s a picture. These are my bangs. Not blow-dried or gelled or straightened. Just the way they dried after a sumptuous, aromatic bubble bath. I love that I can wear my hair in a pony tail and still look somewhat styled.
It’s the simple things in life.
What funny or unusual things did you do as a child that you’re still doing today?
Have you ever lost and re-discovered any of your personal truths?
Have I at least inspired you to get a haircut?