the long one

a-ha of the week: i just don't care that much about my hair.

aside from the side braids pony tail i tried on a thursday afternoon, there was zero experimenting. i totally meant to try some new things (mostly braids) but time just escaped me.  on the fly i put my hair up in a bun or streak it with smoothing serum and i was all set to go off to work. finito.

at this point in my life i'm not spending time on making it look good, and that's not a bad thing.  hair is not a priority.  if i ever do find myself in the mood to pretty-up, though, there are so many tutorials online to parse through.  definitely no shortage of ideas out there. right now, i'm deciding whether or not i want to cut it... and how short. 

i also ran about 3 or 4 seven-minute circuits last week and will be continuing the bursts of energy throughout the summer. there are too many weddings, bbqs, bachelorette parties and what-have-you coming up to settle for skinny-fat this month.  feeling strong and looking my best was once really important to me and it's time i stopped neglecting myself.  

with summer unofficially here, i've been meaning to get to the beach and need to find a few hours to get away from the lingering work of the semetser.  last year i didn't beach much at all, let alone swim, but i recognize that i'm in need of a beautiful sunset dunk and a mental exhale.  like, right freaking now.

which brings me to today's topic:  the difference that a year and many years will make.  i get lost in the "why" of all these changes, and most of them have been for the better, but yesterday, wrists-deep in the sink of dishes, came a wave of doubt.

control is an illusion, anyway.  we know how we think or how we feel as individuals (if we're so lucky), but we can never really know what people think of us. words, and even actions, belie feelings or thoughts. 

as a people pleaser, and as someone who cares about people and how people feel about about me, i'm hard on myself.   when ish hits the fan or a friendship fails (out of nowhere, it'll seem to me) i have to wonder.  what did i do?  what is wrong with me?   like many others, my first thought is to blame myself and sometimes to accept the finger-pointing, valid or not.

sometimes i'll do all the right things, the "good person" things, and it still won't be enough to affect meaningful change.  as i near thirty, it's clearer now that personal relationships take two kinds of work.  1) you have to be willing to drop your ego, own up to your part and communicate, and 2) you have to be willing to engage with the other participant(s),  but that's predicated on both (or all) participants doing equal work, and recognizing that work's even required in the first place.

the dishes in the sink took me somewhere completely related to the conscious now, not to mention the last three years of burying a thought, and the way i deal and have dealt with these stresses explains so much of the shame and self-doubt i grapple with.  the long and short of it is that nothing is permanent, not healing nor pain.  ride the great wave of uncertainy and do the best you can.

lest i forget... i accept myself unconditionally, no matter what.

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this week:  i'm learning to sew stitches and making mama joan proud, i think. be prepared for the mish-mashed, patchwork masterpiece.
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