I wear my hair long, because I like it that way. In part, I just like having long hair, but this is emphasized by the fact that I was once bald and didn't enjoy it even a bit. Having long hair is like a statement of health for me - maybe nobody else sees it that way, but when I put my hair in a ponytail or flip it over my shoulder, I know that it is a sign that I am well again.
I also wear my hair long because I can get away with lack of care with long hair: a short cut needs regular maintenance, but with a longer one you can fake it a bit.
A bit.
My hair had grown straggly and sad. It was starting to scream "I don't take time for myself." My haircut let the world know that I didn't care how I looked.
Except....I do. I wish to be beautiful - doesn't every woman? And I have told myself that healthy hair was enough, but we all know that a good cut makes a world of difference, whether hair is long or short.
Today I took the plunge, pulled out my debit card, and got my hair cut at a decent salon. In addition to getting my hair cut, I got product.
But it's not about spending the money. Okay, it's a little bit about that, because everything has a cost to it....but that's not what it's really about. What it's really about is taking care of myself. What it's really about is putting myself back on the list of people who deserve full care, with an equal claim to being cared for.
Bryan had haircuts every six weeks. We made sure he had work clothes. Katherine grows quickly, but has always had a decent wardrobe. Bryan took the money he wanted to fuel his hobbies, and I always did the best I could to make sure that Katherine had the after school activities she wanted.
I never quite seemed to make the list, and when I did - a rebelious pedicure, perhaps - I felt guilty about it. Mostly, I spent "my" money on groceries or small treats for Katherine.
I'm putting myself on the list of people who deserve care. I would never want Katherine to feel guilty for taking piano, and I refuse to feel guilty for buying an outfit for work or getting my hair cut. And I'm carving out time to take care of myself, not just money. I even made an appointment for October for a follow up cut.
Bryan never left space for me to take care of myself, and goodness knows he didn't take care of me. That ends here, now. I am taking care of myself.
It feels incredible. And it's wonderful modeling for Katherine - I don't want her to repeat my mistakes. But mostly, it's just for me, and it feels so darned good.
A baby step, or a giant leap? I'm not sure yet. But my mindset has shifted, and for the better.
Showing posts with label optimist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label optimist. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Relief
My oncologist, whom I adore, emailed me over the weekend.
I don't have cancer.
To say this is a relief would be like saying that to have one's arm torn off by a grizzly might hurt. There are really no words to describe the sense of elation that comes with believing that I have another shot at life. Every year, my appointment sends me spinning in this way; I'm just glad that now I only go a little crazy around cancer appointment time, and not all day every day as the first several years went. (It's hard to forget cancer with scare after scare, surgery after surgery.)
I also got good news - well, I choose to view it as good news. My thyroid is WAY off, and I'm extremely hypothyroid. Why is this good news? Because it explains my fatigue and general sluggishness this past month, and because there is a simple fix. (I take a synthetic thyroid drug because mine has been "off" for years, and occassionally I need to alter the dosage. It appears that now I need to alter the dosage immensely, but with that simple alteration I should feel better very quickly.)
I have felt like I am just slogging lately, and the fact that my PollyAnna brain went as crazy as it did on the way to my oncology center is proof that I'm just not myself.
I'm going to be okay.
Hallelujah.
I don't have cancer.
To say this is a relief would be like saying that to have one's arm torn off by a grizzly might hurt. There are really no words to describe the sense of elation that comes with believing that I have another shot at life. Every year, my appointment sends me spinning in this way; I'm just glad that now I only go a little crazy around cancer appointment time, and not all day every day as the first several years went. (It's hard to forget cancer with scare after scare, surgery after surgery.)
I also got good news - well, I choose to view it as good news. My thyroid is WAY off, and I'm extremely hypothyroid. Why is this good news? Because it explains my fatigue and general sluggishness this past month, and because there is a simple fix. (I take a synthetic thyroid drug because mine has been "off" for years, and occassionally I need to alter the dosage. It appears that now I need to alter the dosage immensely, but with that simple alteration I should feel better very quickly.)
I have felt like I am just slogging lately, and the fact that my PollyAnna brain went as crazy as it did on the way to my oncology center is proof that I'm just not myself.
I'm going to be okay.
Hallelujah.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Possibility
I think I'm reverse aging.
Getting divorced is enough to give anyone gray hair, it's true, but it also makes me feel surprisingly young. I feel an awful lot right now like I did in my early 20s as I was graduating college, trying to establish a career and looking for a mate. Only now I'm divorcing, trying to establish a career, and looking for a mate (sort of).
Right now, the future is very uncertain, and while that could age me a couple of decades (and on some days it seems to), mostly it makes feel young, in ways good and bad. I feel like I'm on the edge of a giant precipice, and while I know I could fall and break on the rocks below, I feel certain that I could also fly and see new worlds. It's terrifying and exhilerating. I've already taken the leap of faith that good things are ahead: I did that when I asked for a divorce, uncertain as to my own ability to withstand singledom, uncertain as to its effects on Katherine, and utterly lacking in the career department. So far, two of three have sprouted wings....and the career is happening, albeit slower than I'd wish.
Anything is possible. And just like when I was 23, it seems that the world is at my feet, and that there are grand adventures possible. I could learn a foreign language, I could travel the world, I could write a book, I could make pottery, I could meet The One, and I could have the beautiful life I always dreamed of. At 23, I refused to believe any differently, and I was determined to make my dreams come true. By 40, it all seemed flat....but not much later, and it all seems possible again.
I'm getting a do-over, and I like it.
It's funny how divorce has changed some of the little things in my life. When we started to divide up furniture into his and mine, I suddenly realized that I didn't like the straight, heavy lines of the furniture that we had purchased together - it was his style, not mine, and I liked curvy graceful lines. Suddenly, I am eating vegetarian food three quarters of the time, instead of the meat heavy diet we'd shared due to his preference. I'm spending more time on my self care like make-up, because he's not saying "what's the point of that?" behind me, or rushing me out of the bathroom.
But little things add up, and little things make big things. I like the way the house looks better than I did. I like the way I look better than I did. My body feels healthier.
So all that stuff adds up to reverse aging. It comes at a high cost - gone is certainty, gone is stability(such as it was!). But in its place is possibility and hope, and how I have missed living a life so full of possibility and hope! I literally feel younger than I did, and I like that feeling, even with all of its uncomfortableness.
Getting divorced is enough to give anyone gray hair, it's true, but it also makes me feel surprisingly young. I feel an awful lot right now like I did in my early 20s as I was graduating college, trying to establish a career and looking for a mate. Only now I'm divorcing, trying to establish a career, and looking for a mate (sort of).
Right now, the future is very uncertain, and while that could age me a couple of decades (and on some days it seems to), mostly it makes feel young, in ways good and bad. I feel like I'm on the edge of a giant precipice, and while I know I could fall and break on the rocks below, I feel certain that I could also fly and see new worlds. It's terrifying and exhilerating. I've already taken the leap of faith that good things are ahead: I did that when I asked for a divorce, uncertain as to my own ability to withstand singledom, uncertain as to its effects on Katherine, and utterly lacking in the career department. So far, two of three have sprouted wings....and the career is happening, albeit slower than I'd wish.
Anything is possible. And just like when I was 23, it seems that the world is at my feet, and that there are grand adventures possible. I could learn a foreign language, I could travel the world, I could write a book, I could make pottery, I could meet The One, and I could have the beautiful life I always dreamed of. At 23, I refused to believe any differently, and I was determined to make my dreams come true. By 40, it all seemed flat....but not much later, and it all seems possible again.
I'm getting a do-over, and I like it.
It's funny how divorce has changed some of the little things in my life. When we started to divide up furniture into his and mine, I suddenly realized that I didn't like the straight, heavy lines of the furniture that we had purchased together - it was his style, not mine, and I liked curvy graceful lines. Suddenly, I am eating vegetarian food three quarters of the time, instead of the meat heavy diet we'd shared due to his preference. I'm spending more time on my self care like make-up, because he's not saying "what's the point of that?" behind me, or rushing me out of the bathroom.
But little things add up, and little things make big things. I like the way the house looks better than I did. I like the way I look better than I did. My body feels healthier.
So all that stuff adds up to reverse aging. It comes at a high cost - gone is certainty, gone is stability(such as it was!). But in its place is possibility and hope, and how I have missed living a life so full of possibility and hope! I literally feel younger than I did, and I like that feeling, even with all of its uncomfortableness.
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