How Great Thou Part

I sip coffee, pull the ponytail holder out of my hair and slide back in the chair. The stylist mixes the dye behind me. I am at Salon Bleu. It’s my favorite hair salon and one of my ‘happy’ places. I am comfortable here and have been a client for so long that these are also friends to me.

I chat with my regular stylist, Henry as he slathers dye on another client’s eyebrows. I think of my friend “Crystal” who has just been brave enough to try this out. “Crystal” looks great, but the whole thing seems risky to me. However, I am craving change and some type of physical transformation even if it’s baby steps.

“I wanna dye my brows!” I announce to Claudia, the stylist working on me.

I am feeling brave. I know – I know it’s not zip lining or skydiving! However, for me it’s a little moment of gutsy. It is completely outside of my comfort zone. So give me the moment! Give me – my moment of gutsy!

Claudia is all for it so she and Melissa discuss just how dark they will go. I feign quite ‘real fear’ as the dye saturates my brows.

Do you blame me? I’m looking for a little wide eyed pick me up and not for my brows to enter a room before me.

“Five minutes,” says Claudia.

“Five minutes?? Are you kidding me?? Sounds reckless!” I protest.

Claudia laughs and leaves me to my own. I do what I always do when I am nervous. I chatter and then chatter a little more with anyone who will listen and is walking by.

Then the moment of truth. Claudia swipes a bit here and there and they present me with a mirror.

“I love it!” I gush. “My eyes look bigger, they even look more blue, I look lifted.”

Of course, these salon veterans laugh at me. It’s not like I have dyed my hair blonde or red or cut my hair to a pixie or gotten Brittany type extensions.

My mind drifts to a conversation I had with my sweet, beautiful, friend who I will call, “Bella.”

“Bella” lives on the West Coast and she will check on me from time to time. A Facebook message here and there that comes at just the right moment. She cheers me on.

One night she ended her note with, “I wish we could just put on some bright red lipstick and drink some wine together.”

I wish we could too only at that point I wasn’t quite ready for bold red lipstick (note that I say nothing about wine).

I say goodbye and walk out of the salon and into the mall.

I am feeling gutsy. I know it’s just my ‘little moment of gutsy,’ but it’s gutsy nonetheless. A step forward in a new direction. I think I might be back for a bigger moment of gutsy. A slight blue streak underneath my hair. Why not?

Regardless, I am ready to paint on some red lipstick, pour a glass of cab, pick up the phone and call the West Coast.
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