"There is something to be said about creating space to grieve and process traumatic events and circumstances, but when we allow for it to carry on to the next season of life, we are gatekeeping our own happiness."
Before we were engaged, I told Brandon that I did not want him to propose until my hair grew back so the engagement photos would look good. I was only kidding, of course.
Sort of.
Truth be told, my untamed, curly hair has always been, "my look." I feel and look most like myself when springy curls drape over my shoulders and frizz and baby hairs frame my face. My curls are just a part of who I am.
I remember the day I shaved my head when I started chemo. (Pause for a God wink: It was on January 18, 2023 - exactly one year prior to launching the 118 Foundation.) I held on to my curls for as long as I could, but between my hair falling out and not having the energy to maintain the curls I had left, I knew it was time to take that step. I wasn't nervous (my hairdresser Stacy is the best) and I wasn't sad, either. I was ready. And when it was over, I looked in the mirror and smiled. I was taking ownership of my healing. I was doing what was best for my body. And looking in the mirror after Stacy shaved my beloved curls, I felt stronger than I had in my entire life.
So why, then, did I tell Brandon to wait until my hair was long to ask me to be his wife? He's the love of my life. He cared for me while I had cancer. And what about that strong woman I saw in the mirror on January 18, 2023? Where did she go? She didn't care that her hair was gone.
Here's my theory: My hair growing back to its former length is symbolic of my battle with cancer actually being over, and I thought I couldn't be a bride until I closed that chapter. How sick is that? Was I really going to disqualify myself from being a bride because of the length of my hair?
There is something to be said about creating space to grieve and process traumatic events and circumstances, but when we allow for it to carry on to the next season of life, we are gatekeeping our own happiness.
The Bible puts it this way:
"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God."
Ecclesiastes 3: 1-13
I love these verses. When I get caught up in the silliness of life - like caring about the length of my hair - I turn to Ecclesiastes and read the author's insight on life and happiness.
Thank God Brandon didn't take me seriously when I told him to wait to propose. In just one week, we will be man and wife - and I couldn't imagine taking one step further in life without calling him my husband.
There is a time and place for everything, and my season of mourning has ended: It's time to dance.
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