One should never underestimate the power of a good haircut. What people often don’t realize is that like most things in life, it’s all about the process—when you have a great hairdresser you know you’re going to look good in the end no matter what. I hadn’t visited my hairdresser Marguerite in almost a year, mostly because I didn’t care what I looked like and also because I was apprehending our conversation, which would inevitably lead to talk about what I’ve been up to lately, which as we all know isn’t much to brag about. Marguerite is a Swiss lady and her demeanor when you meet her is always slightly aloof at first, so even though I’ve known her for years now, when I first see her I always think I’ve fallen out of favour with her. Last Thursday was no exception and when I sat myself on her chair I felt sure she disapproved of me. Apart from the fact that no one ever judges me as harshly as I do, I know I shouldn’t care what people think about me, but it’s a tough habit to get out of.
My hair had gotten really long, and we agreed to cut off a good six inches of overgrown and ratty ends, giving me a new look in the process. In the past I would have been staring nervously at my long hair as it fell to the floor, questioning my decision, but I couldn’t be bothered this time. As it turned out we had a great conversation about depression and mental illness and her views were so tolerant and understanding that I felt like I got a better therapy session from her during that hour than I have gotten in the hundreds of hours spent with various psychologists and shrinks over the years.
At the end, I liked what I saw in the mirror, felt pretty… confident even. It had been a long time since I’d felt that way. Unfortunately, now that I’m done writing about it, I realize this post seems so trite that I’ve considered trashing it and starting over, but no. It is what it is. I’ll try to do better next time.