“It takes courage to call it what it is.”
@ThePurposedSailor
In the face of toxic positivity, it takes courage to acknowledge the bad. Just so, in the face of rampant defeatism, it takes courage to call out the good. I haven’t run into too many people who can authentically hold accurate space for both. And in my humble opinion, if people struggle to call [it] what [it] is, they struggle to be their truest selves. And a lack of authenticity simply paves the way for a lack of authentic experience, so I dare you to courageously call [it] what [it] is, whatever [it] is. Be vulnerable. Be authentic. Be open.
This Day in 2018:
Not Just Another Hair Appointment
My amazing momma treated me to a hair appointment and pampering this afternoon….and any product I wanted. Thank you, Mom. What a generous gift.
I met yet another wonderful person in the midst of this terrible, awful, dreadful storm. Lindsey, thank you for being so kind. She pampered me with a scalp massage, a hot conditioning treatment, a little “clean up” work, hair product and a next appointment in this grow-out-process.
I knew this was not going to be just another hair appointment, though. I knew, on some level, that it was going to be difficult. I also recognized that it is yet another very necessary experience to have, so I was grateful to have my momma and Lindsey’s kindness surrounding me as I stepped into the unknowns of this phase.
I kept it together for a whole hour. I was pleasant back to Lindsey. I was conversational. I was interested in what she had to say. I was hopeful. I was grateful for her time, expertise, affirmation, pampering, recommendations.
I was also a complete mess inside. I was incredibly aware of my feelings. Of my insecurities. Of a conversation happening on the other side of the wall with a woman describing her own journey with chemo and how she’s been able to keep most of her hair. Of my disdain for cancer and its destruction.
It was a long hour and when I got in the car, I completely melted down. Sobbed. Tears streamed down my face the entire way home. Sobbed uncontrollably into my husband’s shoulder. ………..Sitting here crying now. Everything. Everything about everything is hard. I’m so tired of everything being hard. I’m so tired of hurting. I’m so tired of everything in this taking so long. I’m so tired of the freight trains blowing through me, one after the other. The whole time I was in that chair with that damn HUGE mirror in front of me, I didn’t want to look at myself. When she handed me the little mirror and spun me around in the chair so I could see the back of my head, I didn’t want to. I didn’t care to. I wasn’t interested in looking at myself or critiquing what she’d done. I wanted out. Out of the chair…. of the salon…. of the pleasantries…. of the insecurities…. of my broken, wrecked, cancer-destroyed body….. Not because of her, but because of me. And cancer.
It’s just hair. I know. It’ll keep growing back. I know. Be grateful to even have what I have. I know. Hair doesn’t define beauty. I know. It won’t always feel this hard. I know.
This Day in 2019:
5
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
5 minutes at a time
No post for 7/17/20