I Had The Weirdest Dream Last Night…

I am standing in front of my bathroom mirror, brushing my hair…

Something isn’t quite right. The unruly divide of my curls keeps shifting from one side of my head to the other as I brush it. What’s going on.

Every time I try to adjust the part, my entire head of hair shifts along with it. It’s as if my crown of curls has detatched itself from my head!

The more I try to fix it, the worse it starts to look…

My heart sinks and I begin to panic as I realize my hair is no longer rooted to my scalp!

It had not come out in clumps, no shedding to forwarn me of what was soon to come…why was this happening!?

I am now in complete dismay. I refuse to remove my fallen crown from my head. I am not yet ready to accept what has happened, is this real? What did I do wrong!?

The tears are now flowing uncontrollably, my chest aches as I struggle to find my breath…

It gets worse as my mom walks in, a mask of concern is suctioned to her face…

She consoles me as I go limp in her arms.

She is whispering in my ear ‘it’s okay baby, I know it hurts’…

I look up to see tears cascading down her cheeks.

We both gather our emotions and I stand up to focus my gaze on the reflection in the bathroom mirror.

I look as if I have a tattered old Halloween wig, poorly placed atop my head. It is now blonde and matted and has lost all resemblance to the curly brown locs I loved.

My mom is standing behind me. She says ‘it’s just hair, it will grow back…’

I wince as she slowly pulls the hair away from my head…

I am left with a few ribbons of pitiful, limp curls.

Never have I felt this vulnerable, this uncomfortable, this unsure of my worth or beauty.

My breath trembles as I let out a sigh…

I have to find a way to love myself again…I’m not going to enjoy this.

More tears are flowing…

My heartbeat slowly returns back to normal, I wipe my tear stained cheeks.

My mom’s presence has become a figment of my imagination.

I am left standing alone again in front of the mirror…

The stillness allows my thoughts to fill the room.

I look down to see my scissors resting casually on the bathroom sink…

Huh, I could have sworn those were just in my pencil holder.

I pick up the scissors and slowly release the hopeless ribbons from their misery.

Hm…doesn’t look….’horrible’…

This is going to be a long, hard, uncomfortable road…

I’ve never had short hair before!

…maybe if I even out that piece…that’s better.

Ayeee…my favorite earrings will reeeallyyy stand out now.

I start to become optimistic…my red, puffy eyes light up a bit.

Hmm, I never realized how cute my head is shaped…

Know what, when my hair grows back it will be healthier and stronger than ever.

I’m gonna respect this process.

I look over at the hair I have shed…it has returned to the thick curly locs I had adored, My mind drifts swiftly to memories of twirling my fingers through my adorned mane.

I miss the magic that was struggling to secure a ponytail.

I feel the tears beginning to return to the brims of my eyes as I bend over to pick up the soft mound…

I catch my reflection in the mirror as I stand up…

I stare in newfound admiration of my bare shoulders, and the wispsy curlettes that remained…

I smile a little as I let the final tear drop.

varn

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