Short Hair Means Nothin'

I will never forget the day I decided to cut all my hair off and go to short hair.  I did it without looking back even though, doing so, my face is so visible.  For so long, my hair has been long.  I think having long hair was a way of hiding my face from view.  I never really have liked the way I looked.  I have always been rather plain, seeing myself as ordinary. Oh, and I have detested my thin, lackluster hair. 

When I had cancer, I dreamed my hair would come in luscious and full.  Infact, I prayed God would bless me after that ugly battle and reward me with the hair of my dreams. Initially, it seemed he had granted me my wish but lo and behold, it eventually grew to its original state, limp, lifeless and fair. 

I began to see a connection between my hair, my face and my inner self.  I had spent most of my life trying to be as perfect as I could.  Perfect to me, included being as thin, as good-looking as I could be, smart at everything I attempted, the best at everything. I wanted to always have my father be pleased at everything I did. With a mother that had walked away from me as a child, I felt partially to blame.  I felt as if my stepmother saw me as a misfit and didn't care. My goal was to make my dad proud and somehow have my stepmother see me as someone to be proud of.

 In striving for perfection, I made top grades many times, even hitting a 4.0 a few times.  I was on drill team in high school, double majored in college as a non-traditional student, accelerated at various jobs, and raised two successful children giving it my all, making many sacrifices along the way. 

However, I also, on that course of trying to please had failed marriages, let myself down repeatedly, stressed myself out countless times trying to hit unrealistic benchmarks, let many of my unhappy memories get stuffed down inside of me instead of dealing with them in therapy and somewhere along the way, began to lose myself and become more what everyone wanted me to be.

Post cancer, post therapy, I had an ah-ha moment. Much prayer, much reflection and time away from working, it hit me.  I believe strongly the hair cut helped.  I decided it was time to quit hiding my face.

Whether I am beautiful or not, my face needs and deserves to be seen. I am who I am and I accept me for exactly who I am.  I am not beautiful anyways because of how I look on the outside, I am beautiful because of the same reasons my friends are gorgeous to me.  Beauty is because of how I treat those around me and how I live my life. I am free now, I am not living up to expectations of anyone anymore but the goals I set for myself and those are reachable. It may be disappointing to some but I am living in total reality, no longer hiding anything.  I no longer have to reach for the stars either, unreachable goal-setting. I can attempt to do things I feel I can and want to accomplish.   I can reach out and instead of trying to do the impossible I can now help others reach their dreams.

Age and time has its benefits, a wisdom all of its own.  Wow, I am so enjoying all the moments that come my way and seeing so much of God’s great creations and people he has made! And I am one of them, a work in progress, even still.   Hair is an object, nothing more. What I am is something so much more that hair I use to hide behind, there is depth behind my face.   
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