Red Hair, Blonde Hair, Grey Hair, No Hair

Today may be my last day as a blonde. I don’t know how I feel about that.

I’ve had red hair, blonde hair, grey hair, and no hair. I’ve had bowl cuts, perms, straight hair, long hair, short hair, and everything in between.

After cancer, my hair grew in curly-as-all-get-out, was four shades of grey, and was so easy to take care of. Until it wasn’t. It became fuzzy and had the manageability of a Q-tip. I immediately started dyeing it again.

That was 11 years ago.

For years, I’ve been adamant about not settling for grey hair until well into my 60s. That’s ten years from now.

I have no idea what I’m going to tell the hairdresser tomorrow.

The thing is, it doesn’t really matter, does it. I can always grow it out again. Or cut it. Or dye it a different color. It’s not about the hair for me anymore. I could say the same thing about my weight. I have fretted and been embarrassed about that for years and years.

I’ve faced cancer, had 8 surgeries, and deal with past trauma daily. I have battle scars all over this body, both physically and mentally.

And yet, I am alive. I am content. And I am a child of God. The rest is immaterial.

“I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.” Philippians 4:11b