and to think, i used to be afraid of the zombie apocolypse. who knew that a hair cut could be so devastating?
surely not me. i had hair almost to my boobs when i went in on saturday. i was ok with going about 3 inches shorter - same style, just cleaned up and thinned out a bit. i walked out in shock, not wanting to realize what had just happened to me. [i won't compare my haircut to date rape, because i'm not that trivial... but almost.]
she butchered me. she layered up the back so crazy like & short. incredibly short. like the layers started at eye level short. remember - i had long hair when i went in there. the back was left in a messy, oddly drastic a-line cut that stopped when it got to the sides. the sides - she left completely unblended. and uneven. and blunt.
when i left, the first thing i did was put my hair up in a pony tail. cause i wanted to hide from the monster, maybe. sunday, i tried doing my hair for church & it was bad. reality was starting to set in. i tried to wear it wavy like normal & when i saw myself later in the mirror, i was horrified. horrified that people saw me at church and probably thought, "honey - you left the house like that? have you no shame?" it was bad.
this length surely doesn't flatter my chubby little face. in fact, i think it made it worse. who wants a haircut that makes your face look even fatter? awesome. so good for the self esteem, right?
monday i was hating life. i hated my hair. i hated that it took me the whole time mikey was napping to get it done. gone are the days of a quick shower and get dressed session. back are the days of sweating out a blow dry & flat iron session. its fun to have underboob sweat, right? i keep telling myself this.
tuesday, i was starting to feel depressed. every time i looked in the mirror, i thought the meanest and ugliest thoughts about myself. i know i can be hard on myself, self-deprecating. amplify it by 100. [add to the mess a lovely setting of no less than 5 huge, painful zits that i was getting. hormone much?] i got fed up. i called the salon. it is an aveda salon. i decided that nice, passive hayley had to shut the hell up & stand up for her self.
i explained to the lady that answered that i had a butch job done and that i wanted it fixed. i no longer want to look like florence henderson in the back with dog ears in front. she giggled and set me up to get fixed tonight.
the girl that fixed me - she's not 12, she's my age in fact - she sat me down and we talked about it. when i asked for a little validation, she agreed - horrible. and she said that that was being professional. she apologized and told me that in order to fix it, she was going to have to go even a little bit shorter, but that she'd try her hardest to leave length. and fix it she did. i left there tonight satisfied with the haircut that i now have. i may not be happy about it, but at least i don't feel absolutely ridiculous now.
so i may not be able to pull it up into a pony tail anymore. its that short. and i may have to spend my whole time that mikey's napping doing it... but at least i am not a shame to myself when i walk out of my bathroom anymore. well, there is still the fat girl with boob sweat issue - but i'm working on that, too.
i'll even go back to this new girl. megan. but i warned her that i'll be growing it out and to not expect me back in right away. she said i was welcome. she fixed it & i appreciate it. she even sent me home with a bottle of hair product. that made momma happy.
don't ask for pictures. none were taken. even i don't hate myself that much. i seriously wanted to cry.