With this new series, my intention is to help foster and nurture an open and profound bond between father and daughter, one that transcends the awkwardness of puberty. (I wrote about it in more detail here.)
And in that spirit, I’ve agreed that once a week I will answer – honestly – any question my husband puts to me.
So, question five, here’s what hubby has come up with for me this week…
Hubby: A guy at work was telling me about a neurotic woman he knows (who may or may not be related to him – see Mate, I was listening when you told me about disclaimers!). Anyway, she got her hair cut; but then changed her mind, or it was a centimetre shorter than she asked for or something equally trivial. So she cried. Cried! Please explain – why do women get so emotional about haircuts? Because I don’t want to be cruel to our daughter in the future, but I would want to laugh at her in these circumstances…
Me: First of all – here’s my own disclaimer: I am not one of the women who does this.
I hope you know this already. And before you publicly out me, allow me to just address the one time ever that I cried following a visit to a hairdresser:
I am usually very laid-back about my hair. I’ve had it long; cropped; black; blonde – I like to experiment. More often than not, I get fed up with short hair, and by the time I’ve grown it into a long style, I’m bored again and go for the chop. When a hairdresser asks me what I want, my stock answer is ‘I’m not really sure… What do you recommend? I’ll let you cut it all off if you if you like.’
On this most rare of occasions, however, I’d actively been growing my hair and *almost* had it in a proper style. I liked the previous cut, and it just required a little tidy. I went back to the same hairdresser – alas, she’d recently departed for pastures new. For probably the only time in my life, I explicitly asked the hairdresser to keep the length and just give me a trim and some shape.
So when she hacked my shoulder length hair to above my chin, I got a little bit frustrated.
When I got home and you told me the back had been butchered, I admit I had my own personal mini meltdown.
- It was bad enough that you returned with me to have it fixed.
- A different hairdresser (obvs) told me it was a complete mess and spent as long again putting it right. (It was the same salon though, and if you’ve ever been in this situation, you will appreciate how excruciating that experience was…)
- My hair growth is slooooow, and – no exaggeration – that silly woman undid approximately one year of growing out. She put me back to the stage where I could no longer tie it back – or in fact do anything with it at all.
Several days later I discovered I was, in fact, pregnant (the reason I so badly wanted to be able to tie it back).
(Incidentally that dreadful woman didn’t dare approach me, but found it acceptable to harass my poor husband while he waited for me! And here is proof that I really was not myself – I watched from afar and did nothing. And I didn’t even demand my money back! Not like me. At. All.)
Back to the matter at hand…
Honestly my love, with a few special exceptions – I don’t get it.
I may be opening myself up here to vilification from indignant women, aghast at my lack of empathy – but I think it’s a form of vanity, and almost always an irrational over-reaction. Sorry ladies, I appreciate that our locks are intrinsically linked to our identity, but I feel some perspective is in order: with all due respect, if you can regrow your hair, then it’s not that big a deal.
And if you can’t? I understand the connotations, and my heart goes out to you. I reserve my sympathy, understanding, support, compassion and respect for you.
I can’t help but feel anyone who’s not in such a potentially harrowing situation – but acts like they are – is undermining the difficult circumstances some genuinely find themselves in.
So I will not be indulging such behaviours in our daughter; instead I’d like for us to teach her about appropriate responses, and the value of humility.
Like this? You can check out more of my hubby’s ponderings (and my attempts to answer them) here.