In 41 days I've gone from being mostly self conscious about the state of my hair to not caring at all. Full as it is of twisties and curls, little knots and a couple of big knots, I am loving the way it lays around my head, separated locks weaving in and out of one another, beads poking through here and there. I can never get pictures that accurately reflect what I see in the mirror. Giving up on keeping a huge chunk separated for bangs has helped immensely in the "learning to just let my hair be free to do what it wants" process.
I spent the first 30 days or so covering my head when I went into public (I've toyed with the idea of covering for years anyways, as an observant orthodox Jewish wife would do, and I found that I truly love that covering, but don't necessarily find it pertinent to my journey.) this past week I've resorted to fluffing my roots and tossing my bangs to the opposite side when I feel a touch self-concious. I suspect this, too, shall pass.
The compliments from friends are awesome; the lack of "omg why would you do that to your hair" uplifting, and the acceptance of "I just felt ready to do this thing I've considered for years, I feel rather liberated from hair worry" as an answer to the "Why?" have all boosted my ego just enough to make me happy without conceit.
I've also backed off my obsession with painted toenails and eyeliner (the former due to this "liberated from beauty standards" feeling, the latter due more to a freakishly drawn out allergy-sinus-hayfever hell I've been living in for the past four months.) I will attribute it all in part to this new love for my hair, and thus for myself. Odd, sure, but whatever. I'm happy, I feel lighter, and I love my hair again. That's what I needed!!
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