As I sit in the salon chair, my new stylist, Sarah, inquires, “So, how have you been?” After the shampooing, which felt surprisingly intimate, I try to appear calm and relaxed. “I’m okay,” I respond. “I started on some medication. So, there’s that.” It’s a struggle for me to maintain a nonchalant demeanor.
To her credit, Sarah nods as if discussing medication is a normal part of hair appointments. I wonder if it is. This is our first meeting, but I already appreciate her ability to match my humor, a trait I value highly. She also manages to overlook the fact that my hair is in disarray and that I tend to sweat during blow-drying.
I lost my previous stylist in a way that mirrored the loss of my mother. The connection I had with her, formed through years of haircuts and conversations, was deep. It was a bond unique to someone who tended to the hair of my entire family, yet not so close that I had to bear the weight of her personal struggles. Her passing hit me harder than my mother’s at first, leaving me pondering how one can feel so isolated amid such love.
“How’s the medication working for you?” Sarah asks. I glance at the mirror, trying to avoid the reflection of my damp, tangled hair. “It’s going well. I’m gaining a bit of weight, but I’ve heard that’s common.”
As I share this, I realize how enlightening it is. I say, “You know, I think I’d prefer to be happy and a little heavier than sad and skinny.”
There’s a pause as Sarah processes my words. Perhaps she expects me to backtrack, but when I look at her, I know I genuinely mean what I said.
I would rather choose happiness.
For some, this may seem like common sense. Yet, I’ve encountered enough women to understand that the path to self-acceptance is often fraught with obstacles. Between magazine covers, social media feeds, and societal expectations, it’s challenging to define what happiness looks like. For every empowered individual embracing their true selves, there are numerous others advocating products that promise transformation, urging us to change ourselves in ways that don’t feel authentic.
I’ve lived in that space of self-doubt and negativity for far too long, convincing myself of unworthiness. I entered this mindset at 16, and it became a place of comfort, albeit a toxic one that I feared leaving.
The thought of embracing a new reality, of feeling at ease in my own skin, still frightens me. However, I am attempting to break those barriers, slowly experimenting with self-acceptance like trying on a new dress. Whenever a negative thought arises about my body or my choices, I pause.
I breathe.
And I reframe.
This is how the thought “I look terrible” transforms into “I appreciate this body.” Or how “I need to work off that dessert” shifts to “I enjoy exercising because it makes me feel alive.”
This reframing extends beyond mere physical appearances. It encompasses life’s choices too. “I should be home with my children” can become “I appreciate this job that provides for us.” Or “I have to tidy up” can be flipped into “Look at all the memories we’ve created in this space.”
Could such a simple shift in perspective be revolutionary? I believe it can. Each act of self-love is a seed planted for greater change.
“If you’re serious,” Sarah responds, confirming my realization, “that’s a significant insight.”
I confront my reflection again. The same insecurities bubble up, but I recognize the opportunity within these thoughts. I attempt to cultivate gratitude for this moment, for the simple act of being pampered. I take a deep breath, acknowledging that perhaps the fatigue I see is merely a sign of relaxation—a blessing.
As I drive home, I run my fingers through my freshly trimmed hair and think about my old stylist, whom I fondly remember. She had reached out to me during a challenging period after my mother’s death, and we spoke for hours, sharing everything and nothing. In the aftermath of her passing, I often revisited that conversation, wondering if I could have said or done more.
But then I ask myself, could I reframe this?
“I am grateful for the time we shared,” I assert aloud. Surprisingly, this feels more genuine than any other thought I’ve had about loss.
I know there’s much to learn on this journey. I’m starting with self-acceptance, and one day, I hope to embrace the love surrounding me, even when I struggle to see it.
It’s essential to note that my life’s richness doesn’t stem from being extraordinary. I live a life filled with love despite my flaws, just as my stylist did and as my mother did before me. This truth is both beautiful and daunting—it means that we all have the potential for greatness, but we must be willing to be vulnerable.
We must evolve our perspectives, changing the world one reframing thought at a time.
(And yes, medication helps too.)
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Summary:
The narrative explores the transformative power of reframing negative thoughts into positive affirmations, emphasizing the importance of self-acceptance and gratitude. Through personal reflections, the author illustrates how this perspective shift can lead to a more fulfilling and loving life, despite societal pressures.
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