I was talking with a friend this morning, about haircuts, and the endless search for the perfect hairdresser, and the true stress that a bad haircut or color can cause. She has beautiful long hair that she has been growing out as an act of solidarity for me, along with several other friends---"Locks for Julie," they call it. They'll all be getting cuts soon in order to donate their hair for wigs. (I have the BEST friends!!!!) Of course, I shaved my head after the hospital gave me a pre-surgery shave on half my head, months ago. Gone is my long blonde hair, and here is short, currently bright red/auburn hair. Although I've grown to like it, when I look in the mirror, I still sometimes think, "who IS that?" It's as though I'm waiting for my hair to come back to normal; it's as though if my hair came back to normal, then I could forget this scary thing called cancer ever happened to our family. Hair is such a symbol of the lost identity that comes with a cancer diagnosis.
Sometimes when I'm out alone, such as, at the mall, and my eyes meet someone else's, I wonder what they're thinking. Is it, "Whoah, that's a bright hair color! Why did she do that to her hair?" or is it, "I could never wear my hair that short," or is it, "Gosh that would be really easy to take care of, being that short"? What is their impression of me, with this very bright hair? Is the first impression I now leave one of a daring, artsy kind of person, or just of one who doesn't care what people think? I can tell you this, it's different from before, whatever it is. With a blonde ponytail and yoga pants, it was pretty clear that I was a stay-at-home mom; now, with my short hair, I'm more likely to have on makeup and big earrings, and I know that people can't immediately categorize me just on looks. As my friend and I discussed, right after a drastic cut, you want to run up to people and scream, "THIS IS NOT REALLY ME!!! THE REAL ME HAS LONG PRETTY HAIR! I'M JUST LIKE YOU!!!"
But in truth, I can't be the bland mommy that I was before, because it is my job to stand for something now, and I suppose my hair goes along with it. It's okay with me that in circles of friends, instead of "Julie with the pony tail," I'm now "Julie with the short red hair." My daughter and I always talk about how God thinks that we are all beautiful, and I think he's okay with a crazy new hair color, too. :) There are so many changes on the inside, psychologically, emotionally, and physically, I suppose it's okay with me now that they show on the outside. It's just one component of figuring out the new cancer "normal"--accepting that although you're still you, you're a DIFFERENT you. I can only hope that DIFFERENT also means BETTER. :)
Sometimes when I'm out alone, such as, at the mall, and my eyes meet someone else's, I wonder what they're thinking. Is it, "Whoah, that's a bright hair color! Why did she do that to her hair?" or is it, "I could never wear my hair that short," or is it, "Gosh that would be really easy to take care of, being that short"? What is their impression of me, with this very bright hair? Is the first impression I now leave one of a daring, artsy kind of person, or just of one who doesn't care what people think? I can tell you this, it's different from before, whatever it is. With a blonde ponytail and yoga pants, it was pretty clear that I was a stay-at-home mom; now, with my short hair, I'm more likely to have on makeup and big earrings, and I know that people can't immediately categorize me just on looks. As my friend and I discussed, right after a drastic cut, you want to run up to people and scream, "THIS IS NOT REALLY ME!!! THE REAL ME HAS LONG PRETTY HAIR! I'M JUST LIKE YOU!!!"
But in truth, I can't be the bland mommy that I was before, because it is my job to stand for something now, and I suppose my hair goes along with it. It's okay with me that in circles of friends, instead of "Julie with the pony tail," I'm now "Julie with the short red hair." My daughter and I always talk about how God thinks that we are all beautiful, and I think he's okay with a crazy new hair color, too. :) There are so many changes on the inside, psychologically, emotionally, and physically, I suppose it's okay with me now that they show on the outside. It's just one component of figuring out the new cancer "normal"--accepting that although you're still you, you're a DIFFERENT you. I can only hope that DIFFERENT also means BETTER. :)
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