Late last night I got a text from Julie. We had already talked for over an hour, earlier, so I thought it was odd because it wasn’t her usual, “good night”. Instead it read, “I need to show you something before you come home Friday.”
Well, that got my curiosity up. I called and asked what was going on. She then told me to call back on FaceTime.
Ok…..by now, I’m starting to get worried. Has she been in an accident? Was there a freak earthquake and half the house is in shambles? Is she being held hostage by disgruntled students???
I grab my iPad, dial in her number and a few seconds later she is staring at me.
A sheepish, almost fearful grin on her face.
“Well? What do you think?”
Yesterday while she was out and about she had an appointment to get her hair done. She had decided that she wanted a change. Something different that was easier than having to straighten her naturally curly hair each morning. She had cut her hair short.
Of course I laughed. I asked her if she honestly thought that her changing hairstyles would ever be something that mattered to me!
Her hair has always been short when we were younger. She has always worn it in a feminine, stylish fashion and I never once thought much about it.
When we reconnected last year, I did take notice that it was longer. But, I’d seen photos of her so it wasn’t a surprise.
We talked a little longer, I reassured her that even if she were bald, she’d still be beautiful to me and then we exchanged our good nights.
What amazes me is how, as a society, we’ve come to judge our own self worth by our appearance.
Yes, I have short hair. I notice that the stresses of my job and school are taking their toll on my face as time is definitely marching on and doing so across my brow! I buy expensive face moisturizer with Retinol and anti aging compounds. I put highlights in my hair to hide the gray that creeps in more and more every day. I pay to have shirts tailored to fit so they flatter my frame rather than make me look “frumpy”.
As much money and time as I spend in my own appearance, it’s no wonder Julie was worried I’d be judgmental of hers.
When I was home 2 weeks ago, Julie had the flu. She walked around with a red and runny nose. Her hair was an unkempt mess. No makeup and no desire to even shower. As she lumbered in to the kitchen one morning in my boxers and an old sweatshirt she looked like a homeless person! I couldn’t help but think she was adorable!!
At that moment, she felt so bad that her appearance was the least of her concerns.
I poured her a cup of coffee and added her creamer until it was just the right color. Handed her the cup, kissed her forehead and retrieved the Tamiflu that she had asked me to get out of the cupboard for her.
After a sip of coffee and her dose of medicine, she leaned into me. Head on chest, hand hooked on the waist of my jeans.
“I feel like shit!”
She kissed my cheek then went back to bed.
Knowing that she comes to me when she feels at her worst, makes me feel like Superman!!
She feels safe and secure in the knowledge that I will take care of her even when she doesn’t look her best!
I reminded her of that weekend this morning and asked her if she realized that she is beautiful to me no matter what state her hair is in.
For the record, though…her new do is really cute!