Just ask Jim. Although I've agreed to not change the furniture while he's out of town due to a minor accident that may have occurred when he came in at 2 AM to find a couch in what was once a clear path, I can't help myself to seek change.
To me change is like therapy. It's my way of finding control.
There are so many variables in life we cannot control...and I may be a bit of a control freak. Luckily marriage and children have been a valuable lesson in letting go of control...but I still crave it.
Especially when my emotions feel out of control.
My hair can easily tell my story. Almost every picture I have of myself is a different hair style or color. I chopped it all off after my sister's lupus diagnosis. After her death grey patches appeared and my light golden brown was dyed black. When I started processing her death, a perm...a new start. My lupus diagnosis, I chopped it again. Every color and style tells part of my story.
In a rash decision last year I left it grey but chopped it again...wanting to find control. Another attempt to adopt was over and I was broken. For me cutting my hair was therapy and leaving it my natural grey just felt right. Even though I received many compliments, to me the grey was how I felt inside.
I really wanted to grow my family, to love more children. The door closed. I felt I failed. I mean look at my life. I have lupus, two kids with major health issues, finances devastated from medical bills. I spent the past year here. I. Failed.
Then last week after a year of wrestling I finally broke free. I did not fail. Broken dreams happen and it was nothing I did to break them. This is my life. Blessed despite broken dreams and broken bodies.
So today I'm making the change I can control. It's a show of healing and celebration. I am still here. I am still fighting, for my health, for my marriage, for my children. For now my grey hair is covered and will stay that way for awhile as I move on and add a little color to my life.