31 Days Observing
I met my hubby when I was 15. Being the early 70’s my hair looked like everyone else’s in the country. Parted down the middle and draped down on either side of my face. It was long (of course) and straight. Most of the time I pulled it back into a long pony tail and then flipped it up into a long barrette. The color at that time was natural and beautiful, brown with strands of red and copper and gold. I loved the color of my hair and had I known then, how short of time I had until I started going gray, I would have really showed my hair off more.
Hubby and I have hair discussions regularly. They are one of those topics in our marriage that are edgy. Finances? Not easy, but not like the hair discussions. Politics? We agree, and again, nowhere near the hair discussions. Get the picture?
I wore my hair long for the first few years of marriage. It continued to be shoulder or below shoulder length. At one point it was mid back long. I always wore it pulled back and flipped up. When our youngest was born, it being the early 80’s, I went with a perm look, curls all over and it was mid neck to shoulder length.
I dislike long hair. When hubby was sent to a remote station for a year, I took the opportunity to chop my hair. I wrote a loving letter that basically said, ‘Got my hair cut short. You have a year to get used to the idea. I’m not going to grow it again.’ Yes, I know that was not very loving, but what can I say? I was basically a single mom for that year with two small girls and a house to run, I was feeling a bit ornery…
Which brings me to now. For years I have worn my hair short. I love it short. This past spring I got a hack job for a haircut. It was way too short and even I thought it was too short. That sort of put hubby over the edge. The hair discussions really started to happen. In frustration, I picked a random month and told him I would grow it out until that month. For some reason I picked February. Since the spring I have had a couple haircuts to trim and keep my mop under control. Lately it looked like a mullet… yes, you read that right.
Today I tried a new salon. I walked in, told the cute girl what I was doing. She listened sympathetically to my saga. She gently asked if I minded if she trimmed up the back a little. I said, “So I won’t look like I have a mullet?” She laughed aloud. She thanked me for saying it, as she was thinking it.
We worked together and now I look halfway decent. My observation in all of this? Hubby and I are both stubborn, or as I have reminded my stubborn daughters, they are not stubborn but tenacious (it sounds so much better). Will I make it until February? At this point, I don’t think so. A part of me today wanted to tell her to have fun and do a short cut. But, a bigger part of me wants to do this for my hubby. I don’t think my hair will ever be shoulder length again. But, at least I am attempting to do something to make hubby smile. I think sometimes that is an important part of being married.
So, now, I will head into the bathroom to fix it and somehow style it to my satisfaction. Oh, yeh, I think I will also put away my neon leg warmers, my oversized sweater with the 7 inch thick shoulder pads and my jellies… the 80’s called and they want their styles back…
Thanks for stopping by today, DAF