I knew I was nervous about chopping off all my hair and going shorter than I've been since 5th grade. But I didn't realize that it would take a Xanax to get me into the salon.
All day I was fine, I was even excited about doing a good deed and getting a new look at the same time. Then on the drive over, I started panicing. I could literally feel the anxiety rising up my limbs. I had one last Xanax in my purse for emergencies and had saved it through many recent anxious moments (specifically while visiting my in-laws last weekend).
Even as I swallowed it, I couldn't believe that I was taking a Xanax over HAIR. Come on. It is just hair! My hair grows quickly. I hated it how long it was. It was driving me crazy. I knew this was a good thing to do. I kept thinking of all the wonderful compliments I get about my hair--great color, so shiny, so thick. I knew I was going to make some underprivileged young girl (or boy!) so happy with the wig they'd get from my hair and Locks of Love. I had encouraged my niece to do it. I was doing it in honor of my mother who has been bald from chemo. since early January and has handled it with such amazing grace.
Why was I freaking out?
As I parked and walked around the corner to the salon and the Xanax kicked in, I realized I was more attached to my hair than I thought. And, I was seriously worried I'd look awful.
When I got into the chair and told my awesome stylist what I was doing, she was so happy. Later, well into the cut, she told me that earlier that day, she learned of the death of a young woman who had been a long-time client. A woman just about my age, with two kids, who died of cancer the previous night. I thought to myself, I am doing a good thing. And, Melba is helping me do a good thing. And, damn, she's a great stylist. My hair looks amazing!