Relationships are a lot like haircuts. You spend a long time contemplating it, you invest a lot of trust in someone who seems right for the cut, and then suddenly, things get ugly and there’s not much you can do to fix it. Relationships and haircuts are the two biggest fears in my life. Study has shown neither has done me any good, which explains why I’ve been single with split ends for more than a year. There are a million other things I’d rather be doing than getting a cut or a commitment, i.e.: running with the bulls, living in an igloo in Antarctica, listening to Nickelback on repeat everyday or repairing the city’s sewage system.
But hair and hearts mature and we soon find ourselves wanting to step outside of our comfort zone, roll the dice and hope for a yahtzee. I think our primal instinct as humans is to say “yes” to whatever’s handed to us. Unfortunately, I fall into the pile of malfunctioning humans who nod while saying “no”. As the saying goes, every human has to evolve in order to survive. Therefore, I will eventually cut my hair and be exclusive, which I am currently trying to achieve but in mere baby steps. When your fear of failing weighs you down like a ton of bricks it’s hard to move any faster towards your goal.
For some reason though, I guess on a whim, I decided to take a risk and change things up a bit for once (it seems to be the theme of this new year so far). Perhaps I’ll say goodbye to my amber waves and embrace my inner Elvira through a mullet, or get an Anna Wintour bob or even rock the Conan O’Brien pompadour, as I mourn his late night television demise. Possibilities can be real exciting.
I called my stylist and made an appointment. I thought long and hard about this pursuit, like I did with my present courtship. I have this perfect idea of what it could be like and how I’d benefit from it but I also couldn’t let go of the awful idea of being vulnerable and dubitable.
At one point I was so excited and open to change, but as I sat in the stylist's chair, any strands of hope that were left just fell from my head. I looked at the women around me who were enjoying their interesting haircuts. Why are they so easy to embrace change? Are they just as easy to accept new relationships or are they truly bitter and lonely, therefore dismissing my aforementioned theory?
After washing my hair, my stylists asked me the burning question. Being the most fickle woman on the planet, I gave up the inner battle and blurted “no, just a trim”. As soon as the words came out of my mouth I felt small pricks of disappointment. Goodbye leap of faith, hello life less ordinary.
Walking home from the salon, I kept asking myself if I would give the same fluctuant answer when asked to confront the future of my relationship status. I’m still on a seesaw about it, but it doesn’t mean the ride won’t be any less fun. Although not as adventurous as getting a completely different 'do, a trim is essential for growing healthier, stronger hair. I guess the phrase “less is more” can be applied here both ways. The less we try to label relations, the more room we have to grow and enjoy life whether it’s in limbo or not [note: I’m very happy in limbo right now, thanks for asking].
The scary thing is much like relationships, haircuts can have an unavoidably ugly outcome. Patience may not be a virtue as you wait for it to grow back. When worse comes to worst, those with damaged hair can always wear a wig. Now, do drugs stores sell anything like that for damaged hearts?
