Bad Hair Days: A Metaphor
Picture a few wayward strands of hair falling across your forehead, while others are sticking up at a peculiar angle somewhere in the back. The kind you can’t see but can somehow feel. A nagging little reminder that something is just slightly off. For most people, this might be a tiny thing. They might absentmindedly push their hair back into place and continue with their day.
Now imagine that you had absolutely no tolerance for even one hair being slightly out of place. This would mean that the moment you noticed any defiant strand, all of your attention would be diverted to fussing with your hair. You would accept nothing but perfect, and when you got anything less, you’d immediately stop what you were doing to try and make things right.
Imagine walking to work and noticing some hairs out of place tickling your forehead. Frustrated, you’d stop to sort your hair out, combing it until it looked just right. Needless to say, your trusty comb would follow everywhere you went.
You’d be late to work often because every fifteen steps or so you’d stop to find the nearest reflective surface to scope out your hair. Much of your commute would be spent either fixing your hair or lost in the same never-ending thoughts about how to finally get your coif situation under control.
You’d imagine that once your locks could just look the way you needed them to, you’d finally be able to live your life.
At work, you’d excuse yourself from meetings quite often and run to the bathroom to make sure you were satisfied with your appearance. If you weren’t, you’d be in there for as long as it took to sort things out. Rather than work gear, your travel bag would include a small towel along with shampoo and styling products. You’d need them for those really bad hair days. The ones that left you no choice but to dunk your head in the bathroom sink and start your hair routine from scratch.
Imagine avoiding sunny afternoons on restaurant patios with friends, driving with the windows down, and anything that might risk your hair not looking its very best. In fact, you'd often choose to stay home, your safe haven, where you could keep your sworn enemy, the wind, at bay while you enjoyed a nice peaceful day with stunning hair.
Can you picture living like this?
You might complain that these unruly hairs are ruining your life and that, if only they would comply with your needs, life could be so much easier. You’d often find yourself thinking, “These damn out-of-place hairs are destroying my life!” But would that be entirely accurate?
Is it really the flyaway hairs causing the problem, or is it your refusal to tolerate even one strand being out of place?
Imagine now what would happen if you were willing to walk around with the occasional strands of hair falling across your forehead. Imagine if sometimes you could even tolerate a bad hair day. Not because you welcomed it, of course, and not because bad hair days suddenly stopped bothering you. But because you decided that the endless tug-of-war with this problem simply cost too much of your time and energy.
You wouldn't love bad hair days. You'd prefer a world without them. But if having them meant that you could avoid building your life around this one big predicament, you'd see that there could be more room in your life to enjoy everything else you'd been missing.
The hair was never really the problem.
If this resonates and you're ready to change your relationship with anxiety, I offer in-person counseling in downtown Jersey City and virtually throughout New Jersey. I invite you to get in touch if you'd like to explore working together.
