I’m having a bad hair day.
I told my brother this and he said, “What are you talking about? Geez, girls are so stupid.” Yeah, he’s still my annoying little brother, even after all these years.
The thing is, my hair is fine and longish and the ends are getting pretty dry in this cold, winter weather. I think that not washing it every day has totally helped the roots to be healthier, but the ends need to come off. I have a hair appointment in a week and a half. Until then, though, I fight. I have these face-framing wispies that sound lovely when you say that out loud but that are not at all lovely. The wispies are grow-out from losing a bunch of hair after Jamie was born and they tend to stick straight out from my head when I pull my hair back. There’s too little of the rest of my hair to do anything because it is so fine, and this morning I wasted all the time I saved by not having a shower and then some trying to do something pretty that didn’t turn out pretty at all.
The past few days I have stood in front of the mirror and told myself, “You look pretty.” I have said “I feel pretty” in front of my husband and my children. I’m trying to change. In part because saying nice things to myself has sort of the smile effect – you know, when you smile you feel happier, so you smile more and then you feel even happier? Telling myself that I look and feel pretty, out loud, makes me feel even prettier. And I want my boys to look up to me as a confident woman who treats herself well.
Sometimes it feels like I’m just standing in front of the mirror and lying. I could list all the flaws that I see, all the problems, but what does it matter? The point is that I wish I could stop seeing the flaws at all. I wish I could see myself as my kids see me, as Tony sees me.
But I probably never will. The most I can hope for is to break the cycle of emotional self-abuse that started a long time ago.
I don’t know what else to write. This is how I’m feeling today, right now. You wouldn’t know to see me on the street that when I look in the mirror I often feel terrible about myself, just like you wouldn’t be able to see on my face all the fears I have about my performance as a mother, wife, friend, boss, sister, daughter, and any other role in my life. And I don’t want your reassurance, I just want you to know that I’m doing the best that I can. And maybe you can use that to do the best you can, to look yourself in the mirror and tell yourself, “You look pretty.”
2 comments:
At least you have hair on your head. Which is really the only place we want women to have hair. Just so all women reading this blog know. Attention Women: Shave the rest off.
If it is any consolation, those fears you mention, I feel them too. Just keep swimming, lady.
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