Today’s post may seem like one of those emotionally empty completely vain posts. But it’s not. Really.
I am trying to decide what to do with my hair. And I can’t figure it out.
I would love to have bangs again, because I’ve got issues with my hair covering my face when I sleep and dreaming that I’m drowning. (Yeah, I do.) But I know the MOMENT I make that first cut, bangs will be deemed completely out of style, and then I’ll have to wait a year before they grow back out, and we all know how irritating that is.
The issue at hand here is that I love my long hair. But I also struggle keeping up with it. And because I like to “vintage style” my hair...
...it requires a lot of teasing and backcombing, and because I bleach my hair, it’s already pretty brittle. I've got lots of
split ends texture on my head.
If I go to a salon, I’m scared they will tell me to cut it all off and start over.
Yet, this is not just about my hair.
This is about my body image. I use my hair to hide. Sure it’s kind of outlandish at times (I love me a good victory roll) but I often fix my hair so people won’t look at my body.
It’s the same reason I used to make power point presentations when I would sing at church at 230+ pounds. It’s all about the art of distraction.
This issue of hiding is a big emotional trigger for me. I am an extreme introvert who likes to think she’s an extrovert. (Which makes no sense unless you don’t think about it. Or know me.) I have serious boundary issues. Part of that is from my past, and how I was hurt back in the day. And because my past is not longer going to hold me back, it’s time for a change. And that means full exposure.
I don’t want to keep hiding. I want to live my life front and center.
This week, due to a combination of reasons, I didn’t audition for a musical that I really wanted to be in. But the biggest reason why? BECAUSE I GOT SCARED. I got scared that I wouldn’t be right for the part. I got scared that someone thinner would walk in and blow me out of the water. Instead of putting on my brave face and trying, I stayed home and let the chance pass me by. That is living like I used to every day. I don’t want to do that!
I haven’t been to a salon to get my hair cut in 5 years. Every haircut I’ve had during the last years was one I gave myself. They were imperfect and qwerky, just like me. To have a polished look felt like false advertising. Because I’m not polished at all. I’m more of a hot mess.
Is there shame in being a hot mess? No, I don’t think there is. But is there shame in pretending like you can’t be anything else? I think there is.
Can I be thin? Possibly. If I’m willing to do the hard sweaty work to get there.
Can I be polished? Maybe. If I take the time to work on the rough stuff.
Can I live life front and center? Sure, as long as I get off the couch.
Can I be a leading lady? I can, as long as I learn how a leading lady acts.
Can I pull off bangs and let my face shine?
I don't know. Am I ready for some real change?