A couple days ago I finally got my haircut, and since then I've received many compliments.
"Super cute haircut, really!"
"Oh! It's so different from what you had before! I love it!"
"So, you got a haircut? Oh. Looks nice."
Before the haircut I had my hair up in a ponytail and when my hair dresser took that first big snip my head suddenly felt ten times lighter. I bet I could jump off a building and start flying, if I really wanted to. I'll let you know how that turns out my next blog post.
But I'll be honest, I was kind of nervous about my new haircut. I've had it short before, yes, but not this short (it's a pixie cut). A barrage of self-consciousness thoughts invaded my mind palace (wink wink); I was suddenly worried if my face were too round, if I picked the right color hair dye or what if I was the only one that liked my haircut? For me, long hair is such a security blanket, and now that it's all so short I have nothing to hide behind.
Right after my haircut I had work and one of my coworkers said to me: "When you walked into the break room I only saw the back of your head and thought, "Who is this person?" but then you turned around!- very nice! Is that a shade of red I see?"
And the only polite way to respond is, "Thank you."
Yet however much I consciously believe the compliments something rather subconscious (therefore deadly, thank you, Freud) tells me that these compliments aren't true. I mean, what else are these people supposed to say?
"So, you got a haircut? You want me to go get a paper bag with eye holes because that cut and color are offensive."
My subconscious screams, "They're just being nice! They don't want to hurt your feelings!"
My conscious will almost always submit to my subconscious...BUT NOT THIS TIME!
Whatever niceties my coworkers, family or friends give me I need to remember their sincerity...sincerities. (I'm a slave to parallelism.) My modesty and humility need not become false. There is a difference between accepting compliments and expecting compliments.
I'm no Helen of Troy (what do I want a thousand ships for?), but I'm also certainly not one of the Twits. Whatever beauty I do possess is kept in check by the occasional pimple or pair of jeans that shrunk folded up in the dresser drawer, a reminder that beauty needs to be preserved.
In the same way I catch the log in my eye before I poke out the speck in your eye, I need to remember my own beauty, my own value, before I can remember your beauty and value. After all, we are human: beautiful in our ordinariness.
"Super cute haircut, really!"
"Oh! It's so different from what you had before! I love it!"
"So, you got a haircut? Oh. Looks nice."
Before the haircut I had my hair up in a ponytail and when my hair dresser took that first big snip my head suddenly felt ten times lighter. I bet I could jump off a building and start flying, if I really wanted to. I'll let you know how that turns out my next blog post.
But I'll be honest, I was kind of nervous about my new haircut. I've had it short before, yes, but not this short (it's a pixie cut). A barrage of self-consciousness thoughts invaded my mind palace (wink wink); I was suddenly worried if my face were too round, if I picked the right color hair dye or what if I was the only one that liked my haircut? For me, long hair is such a security blanket, and now that it's all so short I have nothing to hide behind.
Right after my haircut I had work and one of my coworkers said to me: "When you walked into the break room I only saw the back of your head and thought, "Who is this person?" but then you turned around!- very nice! Is that a shade of red I see?"
And the only polite way to respond is, "Thank you."
Yet however much I consciously believe the compliments something rather subconscious (therefore deadly, thank you, Freud) tells me that these compliments aren't true. I mean, what else are these people supposed to say?
"So, you got a haircut? You want me to go get a paper bag with eye holes because that cut and color are offensive."
My subconscious screams, "They're just being nice! They don't want to hurt your feelings!"
My conscious will almost always submit to my subconscious...BUT NOT THIS TIME!
Whatever niceties my coworkers, family or friends give me I need to remember their sincerity...sincerities. (I'm a slave to parallelism.) My modesty and humility need not become false. There is a difference between accepting compliments and expecting compliments.
I'm no Helen of Troy (what do I want a thousand ships for?), but I'm also certainly not one of the Twits. Whatever beauty I do possess is kept in check by the occasional pimple or pair of jeans that shrunk folded up in the dresser drawer, a reminder that beauty needs to be preserved.
In the same way I catch the log in my eye before I poke out the speck in your eye, I need to remember my own beauty, my own value, before I can remember your beauty and value. After all, we are human: beautiful in our ordinariness.
 |
| http://work.theindigobunting.com/Face-Collages-1 |
No comments:
Post a Comment