acceptance

ac·cept·ance:  [ak-sep-tuhns]

 ~NOUN:  1) FAVORABLE RECEPTION, APPROVAL, FAVOR; 2) THE ACT OF ASSENTING OR  BELIEVING; 3) THE FACT OR STATE OF BEING ACCEPTED OR ACCEPTABLE~



my husband…and family….. and friends...have been confounded for years now about my love-hate (mostly hate) relationship with my hair.

my husband…and family…and friends… love it… as for me?

i’ve hated it most of my life.

looking at the unruly mess in the mirror, oftentimes, brings me back to the insecure little girl who lives deep inside of me.

 i wish i was blonde.

or brunette.

with preferably straight hair...

because the red hair…

…with curls to boot…

well… it brings teasing….and spit balls…..and pointing…..and pulling…..and fists.

all things that you desperately don’t want in your life, well, ever.

things that you really don’t want as a young child of 5 years of age.

you know.

to be different.

being different is not a desirable trait as a child.

so, I’ve spent most of my life fighting my hair. it is a battle that has raged long and hard for many years. it is either:

1) twisted into a bun
2) perfectly curled with a large barrel curling iron, or
3) straightened with my trusty flat iron.

it is a rare occasion that i will leave the house without one of my perfectly coiffed 'dos.

a few weeks ago, i was at the beach house with the family. i had to work until 6 and the family was chomping at the bit to get to the restaurant. i jumped in the shower, washed my hair, and rushed to find some clothes to put on.

i turned to the mirror and stared at the mass of tangled curls.

ugh!!!!!


no time to blow dry and style.

double ugh!!!!!!!

no time to air dry and toss into a bun. i was going to have to go au natural with the ‘do tonight. i cringed and then haphazardly threw some gel into my hair, scrunched, and rolled out to dinner.

my husband looked at me and said, “you are trying something new tonight with the hair. i dig it. it looks great.”

 i smiled, said thank you, while simultaneously thinking that he HAS to say that and there cannot possibly be a kernel of truth in it.

then, i went to the bathroom in the restaurant.

once again, i was faced with that dreaded mirror.

holy cow!

he was right. it did look great.

my hair, in its natural state, was darn near pretty.

i stared. shook my hair model style. then, i may, or may not, have winked at myself.

for the first time, there i was, crazy mane of red curly hair in its natural state.

no fuss, no muss. just me… and i was in public to boot!

i wasn’t bending and conforming to what i thought i should be…or what i thought i should look like to fit in.

 i was me.

and I LIKED IT.

 it felt good.

authentic.

true.

it got me thinking about how often we try to bend and conform to what we think we should be. or how we think we should look. or how we should feel. or what our opinions should be.

how much time do we spend (and i would venture to say waste) trying to be something we aren’t….or feeling a way we don’t…..or looking a specific way……or thinking a way that doesn’t ring true to our soul.

what if we spent that time understanding who we are and what we think? and embracing those that are different than us? and realizing that all the diversity of physical, mental, spiritual is what makes humanity awesome? what if we spent our time on that?

it reminds me of my first several yoga classes. i was anxious and worried about what the person next to me thought or what the teacher would classify me as.

future yogini or massive yoga failure?

i couldn’t do that pose, i couldn’t stretch or lengthen, i couldn’t balance.

i was a total yoga FAILURE.

but, i returned. to the mat. to the studio. to my path.

then, after about class # 6, i was solely residing in my own body and experience. i was contemplating my own practice, my own thoughts, the way my body responded to a movement, or didn’t, where i was stuck, or why my mind couldn’t just shut up already.

i wasn’t concerned with what others were doing around me. i was just doing my thing. sharing my energy, sharing my practice, but doing what my body and soul needed.

and the rest of my friends in class?

whether they were doing the fullest expression of the pose, or resting in child’s pose, they showed up. they were there. they were rocking it. they were sharing their energy.

as was i.

regardless of our physical appearance or aliments.

regardless of our religious or political beliefs.

regardless of our emotional or mental state of mind.

we were there. and that was awesome. it changed my life.

while intimidation has come and gone in my life, i always go back to that moment….where intimidation and insecurity melted into love and acceptance, not only of others around me, but of myself.

then, it happened again. unguarded, in another moment and place, it happened….where intimidation and insecurity melted into love and acceptance….but this time solely of myself….

i am the girl with the untamed lock of red curly hair.

i am different.

i am special.

i am unique.

HEAR ME ROAR!