True Life: I Ghosted My Hair Stylist.

It’s true.  And I totally wish that MTV had done an episode like this, and that this show was still on, because it was TV gold.

But let me be clear, this is not meant to be taken in the manic-pixie-dream-girl sort of way.  It doesn’t make me quirky, or ironic, or cute.  It’s the fuzzy, gnawing at the bottom of your gut, socially isolated type of thing that you’re told not to mention on a date.

It is, however, life.

I went to the same hair stylist for years.  She knows my family well, always remembers my adverse reaction to bangs, and has a son living with the same diagnosis as my sister.

So last fall, I got my hair cut and made an appointment for several weeks out.  I didn’t realize that my anxiety would spike for the first time in years, or that I would  be able to justify spending inordinate amounts of money on candles in lieu of just getting a haircut.

Anyway, the appointment came, and I had to cancel.  Work, or something.  I told her I’d call her later that day to reschedule, but I forgot.  And then I never did.

You guys, anyone with anxiety will tell you that you always have a relatively high level of guilt that is in no way related to real things.  She didn’t care that I forgot.  Or that I forgot the day after that.  Or that I hadn’t washed my hair in four days, because my OCD told me that if I did, then it would be dirty the moment I left my house and that I should just let the dirt accumulate.  My guilt was and is a lie that my mind tells me when it’s being mean.  But regardless, I felt bad.

Months passed and I felt worse and worse.  Now my hair was longer and I had so many split ends and I was basically a big ball of frizziness, but I felt like she’d think I was a failure if I went to her now.  Again, ridiculous, but I’m sure people can relate.  Guilt ultimately leads to failure.  It’s a vicious cycle.

So, over a year later, I broke.  I called a trendy boutique salon yesterday and chopped five inches off of my hair.  I felt awkward and white-knuckled it the whole time.  I must have apologized to the stranger cutting my hair three times about how bad I’d let my hair get, but she didn’t care.  Obviously, because the only one that cares is my anxiety.  However, the cycle is broken and I feel good.

So if you’re weirdly avoiding anything because of this guilt-failure cycle, just know that it’s not that weird.  I’m with you.  But you can break the cycle and your hair will thank you.



My hair now, all healthy and cute.


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