What's in a Mane?

Text sent out to several of my girlfriends about two weeks ago:

"Of all the people we know, who's most likely to burn off half her hair in a freak colour mishap, six days before her wedding?"

(Hint: the answer is Me)

When I was in my twenties, I sincerely believed that I would no longer do dumb shit by the time I hit my thirties. And while I have immaculate credit and tiny rrsps that make me seem like a proper grown-up, I also do things like burn off half my hair. THE WEEK BEFORE MY WEDDING.


My friend, J usually does my colour for me. She's been busy giving birth to the most delightful little boy. So, my other friend (also a J) was planning to come help me out but she'd been out of town and needed some time with her delightful hubby.


My (now) hubby said,

"Are you sure you don't want to wait for one of your friends?"

This is not a story about how I took good advice...

When the bag over the colour started to get hot, I took it off. The hair underneath was BILLOWING smoke.

It melted off in huge chunks that resembled scorched SOS pads.

***Note to all you ladies: If you find a man who can make you laugh while you pull off your chemically melted hair by the fist full, I recommend that you marry this man as soon as possible***

I'm not immune to vanity, but I was fairly quick to pick up on the perspective that my love laid on me. I did not lose my hair because of chemo therapy. It's just hair.*

*All perspective aside, it was six days before my wedding. I cried, took two Cypralex and went to bed*

However...

I've learned that nothing happens "to" me. Not without my participation or consent.

So.

That begs the question: why in the name of all that's Holy would I do such a thing to myself?

The mystic in me conjures the image of the snake shedding her skin...the comic in me thinks I possibly did it for the cheap laugh at my own expense.

My very wise colleague, A suggested that my mind was so frazzled that I was vibrating at crazy high frequencies and quite literally fried my head.

Perhaps as a test? A fiance who can love a moulting woman can handle most adverse situations with ease. One of the only things that consoled me in the first half hour was his suggestion that I could blog about it one day :)

I kept enough hair for my bff's brilliant cousin to style it for the wedding. The next day, I cut it all off.

If you think you're not a vain person - try losing your hair. I always thought I was pretty chill, but in truth, I've hidden behind my hair for most of my adult life. Only when I'm at my slenderist have I ventured anywhere even remotely in the neighbourhood of short hair.

There's no place left to hide now...

Stay tuned for either:

A: a revolutionary life change

 

or

 

B: a wig

As my friend, J's mum used to say, "You take yourself with you wherever you go."

Love the one you're with,

Er

Let's finish with a hair montage, shall we?