Me: "It's so much better though right? I mean, it was bad."
Robert: "It wasn't that bad."
Me: Looking at him skeptically.
Robert: "But sometimes there are just things you have to tell your wife."
😂
Have you guys ever gotten a bad haircut or dye-job? Given the current state of the world (violence, mental health stigma, political climate, actual climate) even talking about it makes me feel shallow and vain. But I sort-of think that having this happen to you is the ultimate first world problem -- long term, not really a big deal, but in the moment man can it affect your confidence.
A couple of months postpartum I had two less than ideal experiences in a row. The first wasn't too bad; the woman who cut my hair tried to stack it and instead gave me what looked like long Cocker Spaniel ears in the front. But the second one -- ugh, you guys. I went in asking for the Cocker Spaniel ears to go and for some balayage and instead I left with triangle head and a reddish-purple hue that I've only seen on old ladies in Florida. I know it's silly, but in a time when I already wasn't feeling my best in the looks department (postpartum bod and hair loss will do that to you), I was literally breaking down in tears when I looked in the mirror. Robert and I worked out a way for me to get to the salon in our neighborhood and the woman there did the best she could to fix it, basically re-trimming it and putting a darker color over that incredible red hue. I felt much better when I left. But ultimately, the damage was done. My hair was super short (not ideal when I was on the heavier end of my weight spectrum) and I knew the color grow-out period was going to be even harder than the length grow-out period. But I felt like the only thing I could do was wait.
So, I waited. About six months. And finally I found a stylist who had an amazing reputation. (I was NOT just picking someone at random again). I showed up looking like this:
Admittedly a dramatic shot.
And left looking like this:
Okay so obviously I have some before and after issues; in the first picture my hair isn't styled and the lighting is bad. But you can see my natural color on top and the fading red below. What you can't see is the bleached blonde, uneven ends and the girl feeling so self-conscious about it under the surface. I really hate that I let surface-level things like this get to me, but it's amazing how not feeling like I look my best can creep into other areas of my life, making me feel blase and energy-less. Back in May when this whole debacle happened I told myself that this was just a moment in time and that the fall would be better; my hair would be closer to its original form and I would lose more of my baby weight. I spent the early summer putting my hair up with a million bobby pins and doing a lot of walking while we navigated Bodhi's worst sleep regression (the 6-7 month regression was a killer for naps and night sleep over here). And then in the late summer I started a gray-area workout routine and began looking for stylists with great reviews in our area. And finally, finally, at the end of October, I am feeling much more like myself in the looks department. I already feel more productive in the other areas of my life, more of an itch to be organized and to enjoy this beautiful and hectic time of the year. And for what it's worth I am vowing to not mess too much with my hair from now on.
So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, in a world that is tough, make sure you're taking care of you, whatever that may mean. It's amazing how taking the time to prioritize yourself can make you so much better for the people or things you're usually prioritizing. I needed this completely futile hair tragedy to remind me of this, and if you're struggling, let this be your reminder. If you're slogging away at work constantly and feeling tired and sluggish, give yourself one day a week when you leave at 5PM no matter what. If you're a stay-at-home-mom who is feeling the cabin fever, go out for drinks with your friends after bedtime on Saturday night. If you're unhappy with some weight gain, commit to working out a few times a week. If you accidentally dyed your hair the color of Telly from Sesame Street, for the love of all that is holy go get it fixed (and maybe don't wait the six months). You'll be a better version of yourself in the morning.
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