acceptance

I normally don’t share my creative writing that I do for fun, but this piece I want to share with you.  It’s a vulnerable one recently published in the spring 2022 issue of Please See Me, an online literary journal dedicated to health and wellness.  While the topic deals with an anxiety disorder related to hair pulling ( the technical name is Trichotrillomania) I’ve suffered with over the years, the deeper themes in the piece relate to things we all struggle with.  I hope you enjoy a humorous dive into an important topic, and how learning to laugh at ourselves and how ironically, sometimes surrendering and letting go can open the door to something very special indeed… Nothing Worth Splitting Hairs Over I remember the first time it happened. I was sixteen and it was advanced algebra class. It was our final exam, and I was struggling as usual. I’d never liked math. I looked down at the floor at the end of the period and there it was. A large pile of thick, curly, blond hair was lying innocently on the floor. I looked around the room, wondering whose it was—had some poor soul lost a wig? The confusion was quickly replaced with a sinking feeling in my stomach. It was my hair. But how? Why? I didn’t have time to make sense of it. My face flushed with shame, my eyes darted nervously around the room, looking for my nemesis, Shannon Clark. Had she seen? She’d be sure to tell everyone. I reached down to the floor with all the nonchalance I could muster, quickly grabbed the pile, and stuffed it into my backpack. I disposed of the blond wad later in the girls’ bathroom. I wondered later how many pieces of hair it was. One hundred, two hundred? It was a lot. I didn’t think to stop and count each strand in my mad dash to destroy the evidence. And then panic set in. Did I have a bald spot now? Frantic, I checked my hair in the bathroom mirror multiple times for signs, searching for little patches of scalp peeking out from underneath my frizzy mop. But there were none. My secret was at least safe for now. Up to that point I had craved the long, straight, luxuriously silky-smooth hair many of my classmates sported, like the girls in the Pantene commercials: “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” I hated them. But in that moment, I was secretly thankful for my big, blond mop, which Shannon often referred to as a blonde afro. I had more than enough hair to spare. I was in my early thirties when I finally went in for treatment. I kept pulling out my hair all through the remainder of high school, all through college and my first master’s degree, all through my first job and my second master’s degree. Never enough to be bald. I always conveniently pulled from the underneath on the left side of my head. The result was the […]

  A Bad Case of the Mondays I woke up on the wrong side of the bed the other day.  It was just one of those days.  The kind of day when your entire body feels heavy and lethargic, almost as though someone sucked all the energy out of you with a Dyson turbo.  Every movement felt slow and labored, like I was pulling my limbs through an endless chest deep river of water.  I forced myself out of the house at 7:15 am with a double espresso and made my heavy legs carry me all the way to boot camp.  Of course it was the day coach the boot camp coach decided on a power burpee session.  10 burpees a minute.  Minute after minute after minute.  Four minutes in my body was screaming and I wanted to burst into tears.  No amount of “mental reframing” worked.  It was just one of those days when you have to suck it up. When the torture had finally ended and I arrived back home, I warned my husband to stay a good 15 feet away from me at all times, because I was having “one of those days.” At this point you might be wondering what the heck had crawled up my ass and died.  But nothing bad had happened.  Nothing had changed from the day before.  Nothing was technically wrong.  Except for the fact that I felt like shit and my mood was beyond foul. Now, ordinarily when something like this happens, as a life coach my first thought is to resolve it.  What affirmation can I say that will make me feel better?  What gratitudes can I journal that will bring about a sense of open heartedness?  Perhaps I need to dust off Pema Chodron’s Practicing Peace in Times of War?  What 7 steps to happiness blog can I find on facebook?  What book can I read? I looked down at my kindle and eyed my newest purchase, a book on positive psychology by the highly notable Tal Ben – Shahar, “Choose the Life You Want:  The Mindful Way to Happiness.”  I stared at it on my kindle and took it all in.  The bold colors.  The lofty promises on the cover which spoke of endless happiness and serenity.  Perhaps the secret to my unhappiness lay somewhere in this treasure trove of self-help solutions? But the book stayed closed. Let it Be It was at that point I had a sudden flash of inspiration, and did something quite different than my usual life coach reporitee:  I let it be. Let it be, you may ask?  “Okay Shelley, I know it’s a great song, and was one of the most popular Beatles hits ever, even despite the fact John Lennon hated it.  But really, let it be?” Yes, let it be. It was in that moment I decided to let myself feel the frustration, the sadness, the melancholy, the hopelessness, the lethargy. I didn’t try to analyze it.  I didn’t try […]