This is irrational
But its true. I am very upset with myself, and my barber, but mostly myself.
I had a fantastic head of hair 14 hours ago. It was wonderful; a little on the thick side underneath, but I actually actually liked the way my hair looked. Finally...not since I had my hair shagged long enough to put into a ponytail, or since I had the freedom to dye it deep blue and purple had I liked my hair this much. It was going my way...I styled it exactly how I wanted it, and I thought it looked fantastic. Finally.
I had gone to this same barber for my last appt (sometime around christmas or so..which was before my hair REALLY started to please me as much as my vain self would indulge[see above]), and during that visit told her to clean up some of the lower shag, but the top of my head and my bangs were not to be touched. It came out looking great, and I was really happy.
Well, last night, I finally get fed up with the "undercarriage" shag as I call it, the length around my ears and scruff on my neck...and went to get ot taken care of, much like the last time. While I was sitting in the chair, the same barber, (barberess? She's kind of a pretty lady, despite being a good ten years older than me..but still, whatever, it was the same her) and she looks at me trying to remember what we did. When she finally remembers, I smile, and get ready because I think she's going to do the same thing she did last time.
She started out good enough, then proceeded to cut and chop into my beautiful bangs and hair on the top of my head. Before I knew what was happening, it was too late. (I may have gotten distracted by..again...how awesome my length of hair looked, esp. when she sprayedbottled it with water so it would behave even better, ...But now I see it was so she could cut it all the more easily...*sigh)...
So yes, I didn't speak up. I didn't clarify, I didn't discuss. All of these realizations that I didn't ACTUALLY do any of these things (Until the very end when I half-bemoaned my lack of bangs, still in shock and denial that it had been done)...all came crashing down on my this morning. I'm now upset at myself for not having spoken up, taken charge of one of the very few things I considered myself to be in the best charge of (and having that thing actually go the way I WANTED!!!)
I am now back at square one, having wasted a very good five months worth of length, all because I did not speak up. This is going to stay with me for a while, and make me very irritated. It will not be an outwards thing, but every reflective surface will upset me for at least a week, and then it'll slowly go away, but still.
I Loved My Hair. It was a legit corollary to Sampson, or Fabio...it gave me my damn power, and confidence. I know I'm the same person, but my shell feels and looks different and the fact that I let that happen to me disappoints me quite a bit. Irrational? Yes, Silly? Yes...true? very.
This obsession appears to be just one more point towards me being a girl. So what. I liked my damn hair.
The feeling has sort of dissipated, but I haven't fuggin looked in a mirror lately....
I had a fantastic head of hair 14 hours ago. It was wonderful; a little on the thick side underneath, but I actually actually liked the way my hair looked. Finally...not since I had my hair shagged long enough to put into a ponytail, or since I had the freedom to dye it deep blue and purple had I liked my hair this much. It was going my way...I styled it exactly how I wanted it, and I thought it looked fantastic. Finally.
I had gone to this same barber for my last appt (sometime around christmas or so..which was before my hair REALLY started to please me as much as my vain self would indulge[see above]), and during that visit told her to clean up some of the lower shag, but the top of my head and my bangs were not to be touched. It came out looking great, and I was really happy.
Well, last night, I finally get fed up with the "undercarriage" shag as I call it, the length around my ears and scruff on my neck...and went to get ot taken care of, much like the last time. While I was sitting in the chair, the same barber, (barberess? She's kind of a pretty lady, despite being a good ten years older than me..but still, whatever, it was the same her) and she looks at me trying to remember what we did. When she finally remembers, I smile, and get ready because I think she's going to do the same thing she did last time.
She started out good enough, then proceeded to cut and chop into my beautiful bangs and hair on the top of my head. Before I knew what was happening, it was too late. (I may have gotten distracted by..again...how awesome my length of hair looked, esp. when she sprayedbottled it with water so it would behave even better, ...But now I see it was so she could cut it all the more easily...*sigh)...
So yes, I didn't speak up. I didn't clarify, I didn't discuss. All of these realizations that I didn't ACTUALLY do any of these things (Until the very end when I half-bemoaned my lack of bangs, still in shock and denial that it had been done)...all came crashing down on my this morning. I'm now upset at myself for not having spoken up, taken charge of one of the very few things I considered myself to be in the best charge of (and having that thing actually go the way I WANTED!!!)
I am now back at square one, having wasted a very good five months worth of length, all because I did not speak up. This is going to stay with me for a while, and make me very irritated. It will not be an outwards thing, but every reflective surface will upset me for at least a week, and then it'll slowly go away, but still.
I Loved My Hair. It was a legit corollary to Sampson, or Fabio...it gave me my damn power, and confidence. I know I'm the same person, but my shell feels and looks different and the fact that I let that happen to me disappoints me quite a bit. Irrational? Yes, Silly? Yes...true? very.
This obsession appears to be just one more point towards me being a girl. So what. I liked my damn hair.
The feeling has sort of dissipated, but I haven't fuggin looked in a mirror lately....