Roar

They say you fall in love when you least expect it.

Though I can’t put my finger on the exact moment I realized that it was L-O-V-E, I think it started with my hair.

I asked Dave to shave my head. In the kitchen. Of our house. With the clippers I can only assume he uses to shave his ball hair. That’s just speculation, by the way. I don’t usually like, hang out, when he’s trimming his taint.

Anyway, I wanted him to shave just the underneath part. Like Miley Cyrus. And Rihanna. I mean, they’re both known for making solid decisions, right? And, how hard could it be? Anything short of def-con Skrillex would be totally fine.

I don’t want to say Dave was “unthrilled” about it, but he was all, “Noooo…..I’m not shaving your head.”

And I was all, “Sack up and shave your wife’s head.”

And he was all, “Are you having a nervous breakdown?”

And I was all, “Ugh. Here are the clippers. Just do it.”

And he did.

And I loved it.

After shaving my head, I decided I could totally do bangs. I mean, I watched a DIY bang cutting tutorial on YouTube. How hard could it be? Plus, both my mom and my husband told me not to do it. Which meant there was no way I was not doing it. Taking a risk AND defying authority (such as it is)? Crazy empowering.

 

Then, there was a birthday that brought me closer to 40 than 30 and the obligatory “shit, I’m not getting any younger even though I have finally mastered the smoky eye,” realization.

There were more hair related things. And more selfies of hair related things where I realized that I sort of really liked the way I looked.

There were changes in eating habits and exercise (driven mostly by terror of Terri Walsh…she’s bossy, yo…And she’s like the online personal trainer version of the Eye of Sauron) that made me feel better physically.

The confidence (I mean, right? Nice gams…) that came with physical changes also brought some slow and subtle shifts in perspective.

I started voicing my opinion more instead of worrying about what people might think. When opportunities came my way instead of saying “no” out of fear of criticism or failure,  I started saying “yes” because, fuck it, why not? (Is this an appropriate place to use YOLO? Because I feel like this warrants a YOLO). I started asking for the things I wanted. Not just asking, but asking repeatedly because, what’s the worst that could happen? Someone tells me no? Someone thinks I’m annoying or pushy or intimidating or, gasp, kind of a bitch? So what? Bitches get stuff done.

All of these changes, these little shifts, ultimately led to an unexpected and unprecedented love affair.

With myself.

Not in a Divinyls way.

Okay. Maybe a little bit in a Divinyls way. But that’s not the point here.

After so many years of worrying about other people’s opinions and trying not to rock the boat and being afraid of criticism it feels really fucking good to let all that shit go and just love myself for the woman that I am. The “annoying, pushy, selfie-posting, risk taking, opportunity chasing, bang cutting, opinion voicing, bitches get stuff done,” woman that I am.

So, if you’re hanging out with me, in person, online, wherever, and you think you hear something…don’t worry. I am a woman in love with myself and that is just the sound of my motherfucking ROAR.

 

 

Posted under I am an asshole, Shit I actually wrote instead of just transcribing what my kid said by Laugh, Mom

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