I stood in front of the bathroom mirror criticizing every inch of my being.
In and out.
Staring at the scissors through blurry eyes.
This is what I do.
When the going gets tough.
When I feel challenged and overwhelmed.
When it seems I never had what it took.
I change something.
Today, my hair.
Because apart from the bad hair days and the static cling, I can change this.
I typically just rearrange the furniture, but this is more personal. Too deep and complex a hurt for a simple change of scenery.
Then the phone rang.
I lamented into the receiver as I usually do and fought back tears as I struggled to explain myself.
“I don’t expect you to understand. And actually, if I were you, I’d be super annoyed! But there it is.”
“Um, ok…? Well, why wouldn’t you just schedule a haircut?”
Always the voice of reason.
And so that’s what I did.
Still, letting someone else cut away at the exterior, but my pathetic attempt to exert control over something…anything.
Too deep and complex a hurt for a simple change of scenery.
Strangely though, that’s all this is, too.