The Aftermath

So this morning I woke up and I sort of freaked out over my short hair.

Actually that sentence is all wrong it should read like this:

Last night before going to bed I freaked out about my hair being short, couldn’t sleep all night finally fell asleep, woke up relieved, that it was all a bad dream, reached up felt my hair and starting having a panic attack.

Heart throbbing, breaking out in a cold sweet, can’t breathe – full on panic attack.

I have a special talent. I can freak out about life’s smallest issues.

For example, my hair.

I started freaking out because I just started thinking about how long my hair was, and how it took forever to get to that point and how much I HATED the ‘middle phase’ of hair and it took what seemed like forever to get through the ‘middle phase’ and how with a single-handed CHOP I was back on my way to the dreaded ‘middle phase’

Then I started thinking about how everybody says it will grow back, but what if mine doesn’t? What if I had ONE chance in my life to have long hair and once I cut it, my hair just stopped growing?

This morning while I was in the bathroom getting ready for the day (which I must say I was able to dry my hair in half the time). I was going through all of my 'hair worries' in my mind trying my best to keep all of my tears contained but clearly, visibly shaken. When my husband (who I love so dearly most of the time) walked in looked in the mirror and (seriously) said: “How do you think I should fix my hair when I am forty?”

WHAT! Are you serious?

I’m in the middle of a hair crisis and you want to talk about how you are going to fix your hair 15 years from now???

I then proceeded to calmly explain all of my hair worries to him and my hair is gone and now I am stuck with this short hair and I can’t do anything about it and despite the fact that I was in a magazine I’m not a celebrity and I can’t put hair extensions in.

After I got it all out of my system I felt much better until he said this: “Good to know you find your identity in your hair and not Christ”.

Snap.

That really put things back into perspective for me. I was stressing out about something that really isn’t that big of a deal.

So, I am now getting used to my hair. Sometimes I look in the mirror and scare myself, but other than that it is growing on me.

And I definitely do not want to obsess over anything that will take my eyes off of Christ.

Now on to solve my next big problem: How will Luke wear his hair when we are 40?

P.S. Thank you for all your sweet comments about my hair - when I was having doubts it was so nice to read through your kind words!