I never realized it before, but the amount of products I use on my hair is absolutely insane: shampoo, conditioner, leave-in spray conditioner, straightening balm, hair dyer, round brush, paddle brush, curling iron, smoothing serum, hairspray. Ridiculous!
I don’t have to worry about those products for a little while though, because I finally let go of the last few strands of hair today. I got my first “bathtub haircut”–Jeremy put me in the tub on a chair and shaved my head. It was time. I was experiencing some pretty severe pain on my scalp and with all of the hair that’s been falling out I looked like…well…a cancer patient.
The good news:
1. I don’t have an oddly-shaped head. It’s actually quite proportional
2. My ears really don’t stick out that much
3. My eyes look really big
4. Did you see that list of hair products? I can save some money!
5. More sleeping time since I don’t have to do my hair
The Bad News:
1. I’m bald
(1a. I know, I know, I know…it’s only hair…it will grow back…your aunt’s hair grew in better than before…it’s only for a little while…it’s what’s on the inside that counts…if losing your hair hair means living the rest of your life then do it…I KNOW all of those things, okay?)
This has been coming for a while now, but it was still hard. Plan A was to have Jeremy shave my head and then I could cry and whine with him all alone. But honestly, I really didn’t want to cry over this, I’ve shed enough tears over stupid cancer and stupid pain. So I came up with Plan B: in an effort to include my children in what’s going on, I would allow each kid to take a swipe at my head with the clippers, followed by picking out and applying a funny temporary tattoo to my head. I even had Jeremy go out and buy a pack of tattoos!
For the past three or four nights, I’ve thought about how to do this with them, and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t imagine NOT crying, which I just don’t want to do right now. When I cry, they do too, and that makes me cry harder, which makes them cry harder. So then we moved to Plan C, which was a blend of Plan A and Plan B. Jeremy shaved my head and my tears began with the first touch of the clippers. When it was finished I avoided the mirror for several minutes. The problem is, I have a shiny bathroom with lots of reflective surfaces, so I couldn’t get away from my reflection for long. When I finally met my own gaze, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, which is good. The kids are going to pick out a tattoo to apply tomorrow.
A friend once told me that we shouldn’t say “good-bye” when parting ways, but rather “hello for next time.” So, hello for next time hair products and hair. I happily await your return. (But make it fast. And hair? PLEASE don’t grow in gray or weird.)