After 6 Years, My Hairstylist Is Breaking Up With Me

Photo by Ismail Hadine via Unsplash There’s just so much beauty in this one photo, it’s truly mesmerizing.

I’m not ready to let go but I have to


It happened on Tuesday, June 15, 2021, around 5:45 pm. I texted my hairstylist to see what her next available date and time for a Saturday morning would be so that I could make an appointment. Her response to me was, “I’ve stopped doing Saturday appointments altogether.” I was walking my dog, Jernee when the response came through. Instantly, I stopped. I re-read the text.

Did I just read what I think I read?!

I did. I re-read it again and the response did not change. She was no longer taking Saturday appointments. This meant my routine of every three to four weeks of a wash, cut, and style would go right out the window. This also meant all the bonding, growing, intense conversations about faith, love, and gainful employment would crawl behind my routine out that same window. My other place of peace will possibly be no more.

The boulder had been drug out, rolled toward me, and it landed . . . hard.

After I gathered myself, I responded by informing her that her new schedule, unfortunately, doesn’t work with mine and I’d have to take a day off to come and get my hair done and at present, my next day off is Tuesday, August 03, 2021. I asked if I could go ahead and lock an appointment for that day since I felt as though many of her clients are having to move their schedules around and her weekdays will probably fill up sooner than later.

This meant my routine of every three to four weeks of a wash, cut, and style would go right out the window.

We agreed on that day — 12:30 pm. It is safe and secure in my digital calendar as an “event” I don’t want to miss.

I applaud my stylist for being able to make a decision to move away from doing something that essentially eats up her entire Saturday and having the courage to step forward in another direction. But without saying it, she has broken up with many of us and for those of us who will not be able to consistently keep up with her new schedule, this means I would have to find another hairstylist.

It means moving on.

My intention is to seek a recommendation from her to another hairstylist within the salon who can manage my hair. It’s unruly and thick and wavy and grows funny in the back and I have a blonde patch that she has trimmed so perfectly over the years that is now shading itself a dirty grey. All of this, I love, but who else will?

I trusted her with my hair. Who can I trust to do what she has had the full capability of doing for six years?

But without saying it, she has broken up with many of us and for those of us who will not be able to consistently keep up with her new schedule, this means I would have to find another hairstylist.

Finding a hairstylist who proves him or herself worthy of taking your time and money is a hard task. It can also be a stress-filled one and I want to avoid any new stress factors at this time or in the near future. A recommendation from my current stylist is what I feel deep down, will suit me best.

I feel like I’m being asked to sign divorce papers and I didn’t even agree to a divorce. It feels like another act of abandonment. It reminds me of the pain that comes with leaving bits of yourself with someone you have come to love, respect, and look forward to seeing but now . . . now you have to act as though none of that exists. You are beckoned to put on a happy face, suck it up, and allow these new changes to comfort you.

Eff these new changes.

This is what I want to say but the adult in me knows acting like a three-year-old will get me nowhere. I implore myself to make note of the positives:

1. I’ll get to meet new people.

2. I can work on enhancing my trust meter.

3. I could get new hairstyles.

4. I would still be able to see my old hairstylist and chitchat with her from time to time if I agree to stick with the current hair salon.

5. I can take back my Saturdays as my regular hair appointment days.


As I call these positives within earshot, I feel better. I am not a fan of change especially when my comfort level is secure and I feel safe in the bubble designed for me. The moment that bubble is deflated is the very moment I have trouble seeing what could be beneficial for me behind my cloudy vision. I have to be reminded of previous positive changes. I have to remember how much their influence and impact had on my life and how I have grown for making those changes.

You are beckoned to put on a happy face, suck it up, and allow these new changes to comfort you.

After six years, my stylist is breaking up with me. There will be no fanfare or party or gifts exchanged. I do not look forward to inquiring about a recommendation — it feels like stepping over a line — like perhaps, maybe I should not ask. But she is also the perfect person to ask since she works in the same building with the same women and men doing exactly what she does on a daily basis. Someone there should be open to taking on new clients and perhaps they will be interested in taking on me.

Cue a-ha, Take on Me (this is still one of my favorite videos, btw).

2021 has been full of surprises so far. I guess if there was any year to jump into a sea of changes, this one is the perfect one in which to do so. Good thing I usually don’t have much trouble swimming. Let’s hope I can stay afloat long enough with whoever will be my new hairstylist — let’s hope I won’t have to change again after landing the new one or in the near future.

The moment that bubble is deflated is the very moment I have trouble seeing what could be beneficial for me behind my cloudy vision.

Six long years have come and gone. More are ahead of me if I am lucky. Six years from now, maybe I’ll even have different hair or a different way of addressing what my hair needs and what I want for my hair. For right now, one step at a time.

New hairstylist, here I come. Please, be gentle.


Originally published via Medium.

“It’s a Mild Case” and Now I Must Move Forward

Living with keratoconus and so long to A Cornered Gurl

This was originally published as an informative letter via A Cornered Gurl on Medium. I know some of you are writers and readers of the publication (on Medium only), so I am sharing it here as well. Hello to each and every one of you.

Workspace/Blue light glasses|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

My optometrist diagnosed me with keratoconus at just the right time. Per my ophthalmologist and corneal specialist at the Duke Eye Center, it’s mild in both eyes with no scarring and no advanced hazing. I have a six-month follow-up to assess my status at that time and to have additional corneal images taken. At the beginning of next year, I’ll be fitted for scleral contact lenses. These will help to reshape the corneas in both eyes and continue to enhance my vision over time. This is a lifelong condition, there’s no cure — but using these methods will aid me in the future regarding my sight.

The best thing about getting this in my 40s is there’s a better chance of it not continuing to progress at a rapid rate and slowly easing up as long as I do what I need to. The follow-up in six months will determine if I’m headed in the right direction to keep me from having any invasive treatments or surgery.

My ophthalmologist showed me what corneal transplant surgery would entail by using the eye model in the exam room. Let’s just say, I truly don’t want to have to endure this surgical procedure. I would rather not walk down that scary road, thank you very much.

Not only was I given a great deal of information about my condition and what to do during these next few months to keep my vision on the up and up, I was also advised to get some Pataday eye drops to help with my allergies and keep me from rubbing my eyes when they itch.

At this point, I am relieved there is no cause for surgery or invasive treatments and I will continue to do what I can on this end to help my sight. This break away from A Cornered Gurl and a few other obligations allowed me time to rest and do other things that do not require my focus totally pressed upon, into, or on some technological device far more than I need to be.

I enjoyed it. I relished the lack of responsibility with these obligations and I wish to move forward with that. At this juncture, I am ceasing all publishing in A Cornered Gurl, indefinitely. I do not have the words to appropriately express how loved each of you as writers and readers of this publication are but I fully believe this is what I needed to show me I can no longer do what I used to.

The body has a way of making one aware when one needs to completely change one’s habits.

I am changing mine.

I will leave the publication up. It feels a bit jumpy to disable or delete it, especially when there are so many powerful, vulnerable, and expressive pieces of work here. If I published your work, I was delighted to. If you are featured in this publication, you are meant to be. If you were rewarded in any way, you deserved it.

Thank you . . . Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. Since ACG will be retired, I am deleting our Twitter account as well. A little over a year is really probably all I can stand of “true” social media.

For your time, mind, and eyes, I am grateful and appreciative and I wish all of you well.

Peace and blessings, beautiful people.


A Cornered Gurl via Medium and Twitter are the only two platforms I will no longer host or participate in; WordPress is home. I have to have a creative outlet and I’ll still be on Medium.

3 Words: Getting Older (Jernee)

Jernee Girl, sitting pretty as always.


Overactive bladder

nightmares


Jernee is eleven years old now, almost twelve. Her bladder, as expected, does not hold liquids as long as it used to. Thus, I make trips home during my lunch break, wake up in the middle of the night to take her out, and have resorted to putting “puppy pads” down once again to help my baby girl if I know I am going to be away from home much longer than expected. This is what aging is all about, eh?

 

The Journey Back to Mental Wellness

Part V: Relinquishing Control

Jernee: Post bath and haircut on a sunny, Sunday afternoon. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

There are some gritty parts of me that I find, of late, bring me no pleasure to share. Isn’t that what this is all about, though? Releasing, removing everything from the system that clings to the depths of my bowels and makes it hard for me to handle life accordingly? I can vocalize this now without actually sly-giggling while I state it, but I have a problem with relinquishing control, especially if I feel a situation at hand will crumble if I do not have my hands somewhere in the mix. Ego knows when the right time is upon it. I take on quite a bit of responsibility, but I always have. I am the eldest child, the first great-grandchild and grandchild on both sides, so naturally, I was given the green light to make a few decisions before I truly knew what decision-making was. The problem is, that stuck . . . And it did so a little too well.

Ego knows when the right time is upon it.

While speaking to my therapist during our last session, I informed her that I can feel a lot of tension fall away from me because I am letting things go — things of which I have no control. There have been so many events that have happened recently that would have seriously made me break or lose my cool, but for some odd reason, I am regaining balance. I want to say that I can pinpoint when it took place, but really, I cannot. I just know that it feels good. At work, I am one of the “go-to people” and when I am not there, things do not typically flow the way they should. But, I feel the brunt of it too whenever anyone is out or away from work. We are all a part of a great team and each of us brings something incredible to our facility. We play our roles and we play them well.

What has been hardest for me, recently, is separating work-life from home-life because I have begun to get rather close to my teammates. So when the workday ends, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I am no longer in touch with the members of my team. When one works closely with others for over a year, bonds take place — feelings mature. You become sad if something happens to one of them, if they’re ill, have been in a car accident, or if the stressors of life begin to wear them down. I am learning to feel what I need to feel for them but to not feel like I have to solve their problems or find a solution.

Some things do not require our input.

And in learning this, I can continue to move forward with self-care and self-love. It is not my duty to hold the hands of my adult loved ones. It is not expected of me to center around them and jump onto every little case that causes a bit of friction in their lives. I have to learn to step out of the way and only be available when asked — if asked. Some things do not require our input. They simply require us to be present in that moment when we need to know what is going on and nothing more. Making room to pull this piece of me away from my skin is opening up new doors for me to be able to focus on self-care and self-love more. But, it will take time — years, I am certain.

Standing out| Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

My therapist notices that I would rather handle someone else’s problems and ease their pain than willingly acknowledge mine and work on regaining my own balance. I admitted to her that it is easier to help someone else than to help myself. That I have been in the nurturer/caretaker role for a very long time and this — this taking care of myself, is all relatively new to me. Taking time away from work to go on adventures, mini-vacations to places on my bucket list, and to spend time away from the electronic devices that can cripple me have been the best methods in ushering me to a place of centeredness and understanding.

I want to understand how to better care for myself but not to completely shut out or cut off the problems of others. The hard thing is finding a happy medium. When is it okay to step in? Is it ever okay to step in to ease someone else’s burden or pain? Should I wait until asked or use my heart to continue to guide me to know when the time is best? I like to say, that “I am a flawed piece of life still learning how to live,” and there is much truth in that statement. The quiet space of my therapist’s office is the circle of openness that I need. I am shedding and although it is scary, this is necessary. We are not meant to remain the same throughout our lives. Age ages. It keeps going and I am making it a point to go along with it — to grow along with it.

“I am a flawed piece of life still learning how to live.”

None of it is easy. I have turned the mirror on me and who I see when I stare into it is a beautiful being who needs tender love and care. I also see someone who can be so much more if she pushes fear to the side. The main thing is the fear of noticing how much of me needs changing — how much pruning I require in order to stand up straight and sway passionately in the sunlight. I take at least an hour or two out of my day and I read. I unplug. No television. No cell phone usage. No laptop or desktop usage. I simply sit in silence or I read. Is it helping to shape me into a better person? I think so. I feel as though the opportunity to embrace peace and quiet daily when my world is so full of noise is going to further help me on my journey.

“You have to know when to let go, Tre. The sooner you do this, the easier it will be.”

Her final words to me during our last session — the light that needed to be shined on my face still stings . . . “You have to know when to let go, Tre. The sooner you do this, the easier it will be.” I am fully aware of my path and I know it will be hard to stay on it, but I want to move forward. I just hope that what I see of me as months pass will pull me closer into loving me instead of shifting me even further away.

And of this, I also, have no control.


Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

Parts I – IV

A Cornered Gurl On Medium Open To All Writers

img_20190105_171256
Feed Your Head|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Because I have made a HUGE move and I want to share that here as well. My publication A Cornered Gurl via Medium has been the published work of myself, any Writer who has collaborated with me, and a number of challenge posts. Today, I decided to open the pub up to all Writers on Medium. Here is the official announcement:

“I have been toying with the idea of opening up A Cornered Gurl to Writers here on Medium. And, I think the timing of toying with it any longer has reached its end. I would like to welcome you — those of you interested in being a Writer for A Cornered Gurl to come along on this journey with me. There’s room. We will be comfortable. Creativity will run rampant here as well as all of us gaining the chance to learn from one another.

What is the theme?

A Cornered Gurl: Where Writers Break Out of the Box

What will I publish?

•Heartwork (to include fiction, non-fiction, & poetry) •Tales of the South •Micropoetry •Challenges

When will I publish?

Mondays and Fridays by 7:00 pm, US EST.


Every three months, there will be a focus on the Young Writers of Medium, and on Mondays and Fridays during that month, ACG will publish the work of Writers from the ages of 15–25. I do not know where we will be going, but I do feel like traveling with some creative company is best.

How do you become a Writer? Email me at acorneredgurl@gmail.com using “Please Add Me” as the subject line or respond to this letter by stating the same (“Please Add Me”) and it shall be done. Since I am a fan of variety and quality over quantity, I will publish a total of two pieces from the same Writer on Monday and Friday (meaning, a Writer can have one piece published on Monday and a new piece published on Friday.)

•Tomorrow, Sunday, January 6, 2019, will be the first challenge post and will kick off the opportunity to add new Writers and publish the content from the challenge announcement on Monday, January 7, 2019, and Friday, January 11, 2019.

  • Important Notice: I will not publish content disrespectful in nature to anyone’s race, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, social and/or financial economic status, or anything else I regard as insensitive rhetoric/discourse. This is our community. Grow with me in 2019 and beyond.

A Cornered Gurl Guidelines.

Peace and Blessings.”


I feel good about this, a bit afraid too, but good. For any of you who may write on Medium or are thinking about becoming a Writer on Medium, perhaps A Cornered Gurl would be a great fit for you too.