Bowl Cut

Bowl CutSomeone commented yesterday about how long and beautiful and blonde my hair is.  It was nice.  It is a compliment I frequently receive which is flattering and fascinating to me at the same time.

I HATED my hair growing up.  I mean HATED.  It was frizzy, unmanageable and just plain ugly.  It has now become one of my greatest assets resulting in many compliments.  I say this with a humble spirit as I could go on and on about the things that I don’t like about myself.  My hair just happens to be something I like.

But last night I had a dream about getting my hair cut.  I was at my usual salon but with a strange new girl.  Don’t worry, K, it wasn’t you.  Strange, new girl butchered my hair.  Chopped it all off.


I was thrown right back into 2nd grade.  Frizzy, unmanageable bowl cut.  It was awful.  I was livid.  I was even recalling in the dream how someone that day had told me how long and beautiful and blonde my hair  was.  I was gaining confidence, finally starting to like myself and then “bam!”  this monster butchered my hair.

Until. . .

I woke up.  I had that 10 second panic of “was that real or a dream?”  I even felt for my hair.  I breathed a ginormous sigh of relief.  Long beautiful, blonde hair.  You still exist.   Phew.  I don’t have to go back to second grade.  Thank you God.

But what if my dream was real?  How tightly do I hold my hair in the palm of my hand?  How tightly do I hold most earthly things in the palm of my hand?  My job.  My brains.  My money.  My relationships.  Any of them can be taken from me at any time.  In an instant.  My hair is one of millions of things in my life that can be taken from me in an instant.  And then what is left?

What are you holding on to so tightly, you couldn’t bear the thought of losing it?

My best friend’s mom recently had breast cancer.  She LOST all her hair.  She survived.  Can you?


Hope Kamili


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  1. Ann Wandishin says

    LOVE!!! Beautifully written 🙂

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