This is a quick photo of my hair at its best – colored, professionally blown-out and attached to a rested face. Yet, I’m pretty sure I’m letting it go in the spring. Back to handy short hair that’s easily washed and quick to comb – possibly grey. Why? Read on.
The New Truck
Last show, I pondered greatly and shared my anxiety over the fact the we had to purchase a new truck. You can see photos of this beauty on the show notes of Day 150. It is a big, beautiful truck that handles great, solves a BIG transportation problem, fits BOTH big tall Mark and shorter me really well. Our old truck has served us for years, yet now has become unreliable. We cannot trust ever, that we will return home sans tow-truck. Not a great way to travel. Mark and I are savers and careful with spending. This is a good thing. We had savings ready for a whoppin’ big down payment and our research was ready to make sure our deal fit our finances. So why is my heart still palpitating like we got terrible news?
Dawny commented after last show:
Wowow. What a beautiful truck miss Laurie. Congrats. Uh. I think. The price. Payment. Not so much. I truly feel your pains there. Ugh. Hopefully the rewards you reap help off set that.
This new purchase has so many rewards. It is a great truck. I’m fortunate to afford it. Mark loves it. It has cool features. Way cooler than old, unreliable. But my mind is FIXATED on the negative. It makes me sick to my stomach to see the huge downtick in our savings. It makes me freak out to have monthly payments again – even though I can afford it in my budget and we accounted for that. It makes me sooooo anxious to park it anywhere, because I’m scared of bumping the new finish or having someone open their door on it. Hmmmmmmmmm, sound familiar?
Jo from the UK also commented after last show:
What a beautiful shiny big ol’ truck!!! Enjoy your new purchase as it was required and not a crazy indulgence
Jo is right! We didn’t just take our savings and bet it on a horserace or go on a cruise we couldn’t afford or buy a timeshare we might regret. We purchased a new car – something we haven’t done for over 12 years to relace a car that’s 20 years old.
My main anxiety is that this is a new way of living. I didn’t worry about the old truck (outside of wondering if I’d actually get to my destination). It was already dinged. It was cheap. It was familiar. Many of its controls no longer functioned. But it had been my truck for decades. I know how to drive it. I know how it feels. I know who I am when I’m driving that truck.
Beautiful new truck scares the daylights out of me. I’m sitting higher in the driver’s seat. It has a backup camera (good thing), but I’m not used to cameras yet. It’s longer and wider in the lane. It has a zillion buttons. It starts without a key (I HATE that). I’m used to taking my key out of the ignition and putting it back in my purse or hiking pack and thence to my special key place in my house. I’m a key loser. And a glasses loser. And a phone loser. etc. etc. I have processes, thanks to my compulsive brain, that helps me keep track and fancy new trucks that act weird do not help me!
It’s Not You, It’s Me!
See BCs, it’s not the truck, it’s ME! I like things to stay the same, because I have built up an illusion of safety around the status quo – even when change is the best possible thing.
Hmmmm, my diet and eating behavior was the same for decades too. I knew just what to do with that. Processes were pretty consistent, even if the next diet miracle method might change. I knew how to feel about myself according to the scale. I knew if I’d done well or not by my diet diary. This whole intuitive eating thing terrified me just like this new truck does.
So many people I’ve met have advised me to write a book about my experience with Compulsive Overeating Diary. They think it would be a hopeful and interesting story. But even after all these years and all of the positives from doing this show and meeting all of you online or off, I still cannot wrap my head around my story being a worthwhile read for anyone since I don’t have any answer and I remained at a higher weight than I first thought. I just can’t help feeling like a failure. It is instinctive. It is status quo. It is the way I’m used to thinking about myself.
Now this admission is probably not a surprise to most of you. But it does still make me sad. This doesn’t mean I think I should go on a diet immediately and become thin so I can have a best seller that would be popular and get me a seat on Oprah. It’s more that I’m trying to understand myself. Like the greatness of the new truck’s features, my lessons from Compulsive Overeating Diary and my experience with intuitive eating and learning to eat as naturally as I could, have so many outstanding benefits. I have listed them for you over the years. You’ve seen my growth and my bravery. But sometimes, I just cannot get out of my rut to appreciate them.
Beauty Doesn’t Always Feel Like It’s Within
Another rut I’m facing is my long hair. My hair was always thick and curly, and my only claim to beauty. I grew up in the 60s and 70s where long hair was a great feature to have and valued. Even bullies who made fun of my hips would say nice things about my hair. Long hair also feels like protection. Easy to hide behind. I loved my hair. But when I hit 40, I thought, ‘Hmmm getting to the age where I’ll have enough grey to dye my hair, and I don’t want to dye all of this thick, long, hair.’ So on a whim, I walked into a beauty parlor off the street and said, ‘cut it.’
It was a terrible haircut that day, and I cried. Luckily, my hair grows fast, so I soon got something more stylish and kept my hair short for years after that. It was much more convenient for washing – especially after bike riding and working out like a fiend in the gym. I felt like I was masquerading as a grown-up too. My long hair was my younger self. Not for middle aged me.
Then came my bike accident. Boy howdy, talk about status-quo change! Couldn’t speak, think, process, figure stuff out. Couldn’t exercise for months. Months of seeing doctors of every type. Off work, then completely retired from work at friggin’ 52 years of age. Blink of an eye, I’m completely different – except…
During this time, my hair grew out.
It was comforting. It was familiar. And it wasn’t as grey as I feared – at least at first. I thought it would be fun to experience my long hair one more time. One more time that turned into several years.
And it is a royal pain to take care of! LOL. My beauty is my bane. It’s like my familiar old truck that’s great, except it doesn’t get you where you need to be. Or my old familiar diet plans, that are great, except they lead me down some compulsive roads that aren’t worth it to me.
My long hair can be very beautiful. After hundreds of dollars and hours of time. And once upon a time, the veil of beauty and comfort it gave me was so very worth it. Once upon a time, I knew who I was on my diet in my old truck and waving my braid around. Today I’m contemplating a new style as I drive my new steed to the mountain to talk about my feelings instead of heading for the chips.
Maybe someday, I’ll have that book showing me with short hair and smiling because the best ending of all would be me, at peace with the status quo of change.
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