HAIR BEGONE >>> AGAIN

Well today is the day I get a new do. My hair since 17 has always been a reflection of my internal conflict and/or thoughts. I use to keep my hair long because that's what "the pretty ones" did. Then the blonde highlights were added for the same reason. It could have also been part and parcel to the fact that at that point in my life there was little I truly knew about myself and I wanted to be anywhere besides where I was. There was always a fleeting feeling...I always yearned to change my situation and just float away. Maybe if I appeared as the ideal, I could live it.

From the above description it would seem that this Mama never really understood herself. Not entirely true. I was a nerd, an athlete and artist. My friends were all but I always drifted amongst the cliques and never really infused myself into one. All at once, I admired the pretty girls with boyfriends (although they collectively welcomed me into their group and then ambushed me with a makeover...apparently I didn't know what conditioner or makeup was), the punk kids who were always just lingering, the artist who was free, the loners who just were but never are, the athlete who was strong and the nerd with their nose in the books (my most comfortable place).

All at once, I also desired a separation from high school because the admiration and lack of inception into the (A) cool crowd was not working. So it started with the cutting of my long hair, progressed to the growing it out again and dying of it blond. This carried onto university where I know it was socially acceptable to change yourself every other week without the repercussions of sitting next to the classmate who labeled you 4 years previously and gave you know chance to change, because you probably wouldn't see them again. Then again, maybe by changing my hair every other week (from purple, to red, to black and pink to blond and pink to orange to pixie cut) was my way of standing out.

It wasn't until I met the papa (with pixie blonde hair) that I felt the desire to go au naturel...okay well after a quick jaunt of pink and black. He somehow centred my thoughts. I no longer feel a desire to change my outer appearance to reflect my chaotic insides. No longer do I want to fit in because I have created my own place in my heart.

What I do want is to subdue the nest on my head from 5 months of hair growth from shaving it mid-summer. Stay tuned for tonight's results...

And here is the post I wrote back in July about shaving my head...I called it HAIR BEGONE.

The last several weeks have been quite emotional for me. I abruptly decided to give up breastfeeding. I was just compelled. For almost 3 years my body has belonged to others. I so yearned for autonomy and I decided mentally that it was time to regain control. There is absolutely no guilt associated with "cutting off" the Harri Berry (my daughter). I truly listened to my heart and knew that she would ultimately be okay. SHE IS!

With that came a reintroduction to my body. It changed but so have I. It feels like we are both on the same pages now. We have both been through a heck of a lot. Sometimes together, sometimes apart. But we have essentially arrived at the same place: LOVE.

My hubby turned 29...the year before all is supposed to change. I inevitably ended up feeling like my time to do what I truly desire was drifting. I hated to think that my mind would become still and life stagnant if I didn't act before my impending three-OH!

My relationship with food has always been complicated. But after almost a year of dealing with a gut that hates me, fondly remembering a time when the food in my life was to nourish not numb, and the love of my body and self, I have come to a place where "thy food is thy medicine and thy medicine my food".

With all these personal revelations, I felt it only fitting to wipe the slate clean as one might say. SO I SHAVED MY HEAD! When I look in the mirror I see myself, my new beginning.

Now, I am not going to lie. Fear accompanied the buzzing of the razor. But the emotions that surged through my veins and palpitated my heart through the process were overwhelmingly liberating. I felt alive, strong, happy and loved by a husband who reassured me I was beautiful, although, I have come to a point where I know I am. This is not to be misconstrued as narcissism. It is true bliss: to look at yourself in the mirror and see your being before your body.