As the title suggests, I got married with my eyes wide open and I realized there could be blows during our years together, but I also knew there would be a great joy. Usually, my husband is kind, attentive and very aware of me and my feelings, but sometimes there is a complete surprise for me. For better or worse, I don't always know what my reaction should be. Curiosity? Anger? Stupification? Calm with deep breath? The four clearly describe my last reaction.
One of my New Year's resolutions is to save money. You know how close parties and credit cards are, I see; I want it; I buy it; I repeat. Although I remain deeply satisfied with the purchases I have made for my family, I also realize that precautions must be taken in the following months to replenish our bank account. My husband and I have always been savers and we like to know that we are ready for any eventuality. And then I decided that one of the savings would be to cut my hair instead of spending $ 45. He had already cut himself, so why not a bi?
I washed and combed my tufts that had reached a point where I could comfortably create a ponytail or stack it on my head with an elegant twist. I'm not sure that long hair really flatters me, but I loved the youthful joy of swinging my hair while jogging or taking care of daily chores. "About half an inch," he said, displaying the measurement with his thumb and index finger. "A little bit out of extremes," I continued.
Shoulders wrapped in a towel, he started. "Snip! Snip!" replied the scissors, cutting and then replied: "It will grow back."
Before this declaration, I should have thrown in the towel and run away, however, I had faith in his abilities and I let him continue. "Snip! Snip" echoed the scissors as I turned around my left ear and headed for the back section. "Snuuuppp! Snuuuppp." I knew this noise was not like the sounds of my usual stylist and curiosity woke me, but confidence permeated and, therefore, I allowed him to wrap my neck and bring my right ear and my chin. "Very well!" he exclaimed proudly.
"Thank you!" I said, getting ready to shake the towel and grab a boyfriend. "Oh my God!" I screamed while looking at the ground. "It's not half an inch, it's 3-4 four inches. What did you do?"
He replied, "Like I said, it will grow back."
"I know," I whispered, knowing it would take three years: my hair isn't growing quickly. Tears overwhelmed me when I picked up the tangled package and threw it in the trash. Stupid, I said, "What were you thinking?"
I spent the rest of the afternoon in pain and frustration, wondering why and how I had allowed this to happen. Each time I ran my fingers through my skull, I relived the anxiety when my fingers stopped dead. Well, they stopped in most places. In the back, in particular, I discovered strange remains of previously long braids. The inability to cut my back forced me to go back to Lynn again and again so that I could continue with her finishing touches.
A long night, frequent glimpses in the mirror and a restless night of sleep finally calmed me down. After all, what can I do if not wait 36 months for the return of a super-up-do? Saving money is important, as cutting corners can be a good idea, however, cutting my hair will be significantly saved for someone else.
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