Who's Going to Cut It?
I already knew I wasn't going back to my old hairdresser. I decided that, 10 months ago. This photo shows my hair a few days after it was last cut, but the day I visited my stylist I wasn't smiling. I remember sitting in the salon chair, feeling like I was in a fog. I had just learned I had cancer and my stylist (of 15 years) offered such distracted, phony support, I was confused and hurt. I swore I would never return. |
My Wig Trimmer
During my wig days, I was lucky to find a stylist who was talented in wig trimming and apparently had skills for post chemo hair. But in November, after an odd wig trimming experience, I swore I would never return to her. (Blog #115 ) Maybe I've been overly sensitive these past months. But I've also learned, life is too short to settle for service or people who don't treat you well. There are lots of good people out there. But where are they? |
I hoped to find a stylist who could help me grow my hair out gracefully AND deal with my tricky hair... with its varied textures, lengths and colors. I called up support groups and Googled for local stylists. But I came up with nothing. I got a couple salon suggestions from friends, but one stylist wouldn't call me back and another said she wasn't taking new clients. I sulked. |
My Appointment
I ended up contacting my friend Cheryl, who happens to have very cute short hair. I got an appointment with her stylist and felt a little silly when I said, "I'm not even sure what you can cut!" But suddenly Christina was shampooing my hair and we were laughing and chatting. Once I was seated in front of the mirror, she put all her focus on me. She was sort of delighted with my finger waves and my little swirls here and there. She went after my longer, white hairs that stick out oddly. And she seemed to understand my chemo curls. I felt safe. |
A Difference?