Accepting Change is Part of Life

Purposeful Parent Tip:  Change is a part of life. Teach your children resilience so they can bounce back from the changes in their own lives.

I have been wanting to admit something for a while, but have been hesitant to do so. It’s been bothering me for a few years. I know there’s nothing I can do about it so I just have to accept it. Ok, here goes. I’m afraid of my hair.

EEK! I said it! I know you are laughing right now and that’s ok. It’s not often one can admit their fears and in such a public place such as a blog on the Internet. But in order to accept a situation and be able to change it, you have to admit it exists right?

My hair has defined me for as long as I can remember. As a child I had pin-straight hair that my mom couldn’t curl to save her life. I cut my hair short in high school and in college, let it grow out and permed it every chance I could get. Despite giving away my age, I attended college in the 80’s and if you remember the hair styles back then, bigger was better. And with me being a Long Island girl, big was not even big enough! I had the perfect 80s hair. And I didn’t have to do a thing to get it that way.

It was thick, wavy and all I needed to do to get ready for those big nights out on the town was simply to flip my head over, run the hair dryer through it, flip my head back. Voila! Done. My sisters and friends hated me. Ok, well maybe they didn’t really hate me, but waves of jealousy ran over them whenever they saw my hair. Even old boyfriends begged me never to cut my hair after we had broken up.

Fast forward a few years – still looking good though tamed down quite a bit for my role in corporate America. My flowing wavy locks were left behind only to be replaced with a kinder, gentler hair that would be more acceptable in this buttoned-up world.

Today it’s a whole other story. The combination of age and having two children has completely changed my hair. It is no longer pin straight. It is no longer soft wavy curls. It is a crop of tight kinky curls that would make a Brillo pad look like a cotton ball. What? Yes. I know, I know – the pictures on my blog and website depict a very different look.  One that is straight, smooth, and shall I say…tamed. However, the work that needs to be done to achieve that look is mind-boggling to me now, given my previous 5-minute hair routine.

My own children lament when they see my hair on the days I let it dry by itself. (Note: these are days when I do not go out of the house.) My son in particular is the first to
say, “Mommy, I like your hair better when it’s straight.” Yes, my dear son, so do I. Gone are the days of yesteryear when I could hop in the shower, wash and dry my hair in less than 10 minutes, and be ready to go.

Now, it takes 10 minutes to put on all of the products needed to get my hair to begin to resemble actual hair. And then comes the blow drying. Ugh. I’ve now come to hate my blow dryer and the various brushes and flat irons that accompany it. Perhaps this is why I no longer wash my hair every day. I’m convinced I’d be headed for the asylum. I am afraid of the shower and getting my hair wet.

Because of this I did not go swimming with my kids this summer in my dad’s pool. I was too afraid of what it would do to my hair. So, I missed out on the opportunity to splash and play with my kids. Why? Because of my hair.  I was afraid that the water would
turn my smooth silky locks into an unmanageable mess.  And I just didn’t have the strength to deal with it.

I don’t know why my hair changed into what it is today. Is it age? Is it hormonal? Is it because I took my “perfect” hair for granted all those years? I’m not sure. All I know is that it is what it is and I have to accept it. That’s the thing with change. You can fight it long and hard, but eventually it will beat you and you have to come to a place of accepting it.

Perhaps I’ll be blessed again in my life with my once-envied hair. But if not, I know that whatever my hair decides to do, I’ll be ready with a scrunchy in one hand and my
stylist’s phone number in the other.

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