Suddenly Single Journey

Looks like hair!

Author: thenicknick

By this point, I think we can all agree that my struggles to get my hair to once again resemble hair are the stuff epics are made of.  Clearly, I have made some questionable choices in the name of love.  Well, that time has passed.  And it occurred to me yesterday, as I struggled to tame my hair before spending a lovely day with Kimberly, that the last time I had had my hair cut was that fateful Thursday night.

See, I had a break during the day and, on a combination of impulse and necessity, had had my hair cut.  And I had reminded the woman styling the hair that I was still trying to grow it out.  (Another act of love…)  And so she had taken as much off as she dared and tried to make it somewhat resemble the bob I had pointed out in the picture.  It felt good and I was all perky going home.

When I arrived, I saw the kids and was talking out in the driveway when Sam arrived.  They hadn’t commented on my hair…partially because they are kids wrapped up in their own lives…and video games, but mostly because they weren’t really invested in my hair.  Now Sam, on the other hand, noticed and commented.

Sam: You had your hair cut.  I like it.

The clouds parted, a rainbow crossed the sky, and the planets shifted.  He liked my hair.

And then he went in the house, showered, and prepared to go out for the fourth time that week with M…and never came home.

So, with all the positive changes taking place, all the good going on in my life, I couldn’t wait another moment before drastically altering my hair.  The woman who did my hair this time is one that has built up a rapport with me because we chit chat when she passes my office daily on her way to the salon.  And she knew that I had been growing my hair and was reluctant to make any changes.

Stylist: What if we…

me: Nope.  Off.  All off. To here.

And I put my hand on the nape of my neck.  She looked very doubtful.

Stylist: But you’re growing your hair.

me: Not anymore.  Now I’m doing precisely what I want to do.  I’m making me happy.

So, she washed my hair and I explained the situation.

Stylist: So, how much older than him were you.

me: *sigh* Eight and a half years.  But I mean, he was 28 and owned his own home.  I thought he was mature.

She paused mid cut and I could tell she was trying to do the math, so I helped her.

me: I’m 37.

Her eyes grew large as saucers.

Stylist: Okay, first of all, I would have guessed you at 27.

And you never know whether they mean it or are just flirting with a larger tip…

Stylist: And now…with this hair cut…as long as you have the attitude to pull it off…

And she acted doubtful.  Mwah ha ha!  (That’s for you Kimberly.   And because it fit soooo weeeell.)

me: I think I can handle it.

I was smirking, knowing how I felt, knowing who I am.  And the shorter my hair was cut, the happier I became.  It was a good style.  And it looks like hair!

So, I walked out of the salon, lighter, happier, and feeling especially playful.  Guess it was a good thing I was heading over to Spring’s next to check on her and visit.  I had one little stop to make on the way.

The electronics guys saw me coming and their jaws dropped.  Now, I never know immediately whether or not it’s a good thing, or a sign that I have made a horrific mistake.  Still, I pasted the smile on my face and walked over.

Manager: Damn!  Look at you!

me: So, it’s okay?

Manager: Well, I almost forgot you know I was married.  I was going to hit on you.

We all laughed.

Manager:  Seriously.  The hair is great.  You look hot.

me: I guess single agrees with me?

He nodded.  And the other guys smiled.

Manager: Don’t ever change.

And I knew what he meant.  He had seen me do one thing after another in an effort to make someone, not necessarily me, happy.  And now, what changes were made were about me.  I’m taking care of me the way I want to.  I’m doing what I want to do.  I eat what I want and LIKE when I want.  I hang out with who I want to hang out with, when I want to do it.  I talk to my friends and have girl time.  I have a very rich, full life.  I’m very blessed.  And I know it.

Oh, I hear a few doubters in the midst.  I know what you’re thinking.  You think that next time a guy I really like comes along that I’ll just cave again and let him remodel me.  Nope.  Want proof?

Last Saturday, I had a really nice date with a really great guy that I really hope I get to know better.  (That’s three reallys, by the way.)  He saw a picture of me during my blond phase.

The Divine Mr. M: I think you look good as a blond.

me: Well, it’s never happening again.

He turned and smiled at me.

me: I mean it.  It killed my hair.  I will never again change myself for a man.

(See, there was my disclaimer: like me as I am.  Let that be a warning to you.)

So, I had my hair cut last night.  And I didn’t ask any man for input or approval.  And it felt good.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 15th, 2009 at 8:22 am and is filed under Just Sharing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.