Tragedy struck this week.
And by 'tragedy' I mean, hair crisis!!
My bangs had grown out of control & I had two options; either get to Burlington to have my actual hairdresser cut them properly for me, or, while zipping around the mall stop at a salon for a quick snip-snip. After all, they are a simple cut, yes? I was wise enough to know that I myself shouldn't cut them (something I clearly proved when I was 13) and assumed that all hairdressers have both the education and hours of practice on their side to save me from the battle I was having constantly blowing them out of my eyes!
As I contemplated my busy week ahead & attempted to figure out when I could actually make it to Burlington, I decided to choose the decision that would make my life easier. I would hop into the mall salon that was right in front of me. After all, I was already there, I had 5 minutes, and they are ONLY BANGS!
I purposely took notice of the person the hairdresser worked on just before me & he looked great as he proudly strutted out of the salon ready to take on the world. His confidence solidified my decision. I would be the next customer to leave joyful & proud of 'just doing it'!
As I sat comfy in the chair with my eyes closed praising myself for making my life a little easier I began to wonder what was taking so long. So I took a break from my positive bliss to inspect the situation. When I opened my eyes all I could see was A LOT of my forehead reflecting back at me in the mirror. My bangs were almost completely straight across (meaning crooked!) & cut 3/4's above my eyebrows... & yes, quite uneven all the way across. Stunned just isn't a strong enough word to describe my shocked state.
I left in a total fog... what had I done? I looked like a 12 year old whose blind grandmother took old scissors to her grand-daughters fringe telling her that the shorter they are, the less she will need to put up with having them cut!
Seriously, Edna Mole has better bangs than I do!!! Hers are wildly long compared to mine & although straight across her forehead, they are indeed STRAIGHT! I currently have a drunk caterpillar across my upper forehead!
As I drove home from the massacre, a couple of things became clear:
1) how crazy hard I am on myself to always make the perfect decision every time one needs to be made.
2) The fact that the feelings I had about my decision to have a different saloon cut my bangs would have been much different if I actually received the trim I desired. If I walked out looking like ME instead of a barbie that a two year old took scissors to, I would have felt very proud of this decision. It would have been an efficient, smart decision & this blog would have been written about the power of a making quick decisions rather than the aftershock of one!
As I reflected back on my walk of shame from the mall to my car, I heard more clearly what was going through my head:
- if I had made it a priority two weeks ago when I first realized I needed the trim, I could have gotten to my real hairdresser and wouldn't be in this mess!
- it was my fault for not being more clear to the scissor wielding sadist what I wanted.
- it was my fault because I was impatient.
- it was my fault because I didn't know anything about this salon.
- it was my fault because I was in a rush.
'It was MY fault because...' just kept going over and over in my overly active mind. It was one strong inner mean voice that was determined to discipline me for my foolish actions.
But, instead of giving this voice so much power, what I SHOULD have been doing was,
- accepting the fact that no matter what decisions I make, I never have control over the outcome... only my reaction to it.
- recognizing that over analysing the result was making me feel worthless & small.
- reassuring myself that this choice did not define me or my intelligence.
- getting a GOOD LAUGH!!
And my real question became,
If I am THIS hard on myself for a botched bang job, how hard am I on myself for the
BIGGER things in my life that don't go as planned?
There were only three things I needed to do at this point; shut down the inner criticism, buy some hand-bands to hide the evidence, and be grateful that,
...they will grow back!