Bob on a Blob

When I was about 13, Sexy Twin, myself and a good friend of ours had this brilliant idea! We decided we'd make, and bury, a time capsule (see, brilliant!).

I can't recall why we had this little stroke of genius, but I recall vividly the teenage excitement that comes from an idea you are convinced is the best in the World! There was squealing, giggling and lots of "Right, let's do this".

We set about collecting the items we would bury as our hidden treasure. We included Hubba Bubba bubble gum (ahh, such childhood memories), Tazo's (you know, the ones that came inside chip packets), a 50c stamp, a bus ticket (wow, we were creative), a photo of the three of us, a nice wordy letter to the lucky (indeed) finders of our capsule, and a lock of each of our hair.

Sexy Twin and friend plucked one tiny little tendril of hair, tied a delicate ribbon around it and placed it in our capsule (which was a Twinning tea tin by the way). I on the other hand, always trying to get a laugh, even at my own expense, lopped off half my ponytail (it was actually an accident). As I stood in front of the mirror holding a large chunk of my hair, I began to wonder what my long hair would look like short? Well, anyone who knows me will tell you, I am the horse that can be led to water AND made to drink. I'll take up a dare faster than you can issue a physical challenge, and if I think laughter is involved, I'll dare myself. So, when Sexy Twin and friend suggested we cut my hair off, I giggled and said "Heck, let's do it".

Half an hour later my so called sister and friend were writhing around on the floor, amidst strands of my hair, in peals of laughter. Meanwhile I was sitting in front of the mirror crying and laughing at the same time. The left side of my hair was sitting flush to my ear and the right side was still mid way down my back. Apparently the look was so funny my hairdressers could not even continue the task. After a further 20 minutes of laughter, friend again began the chop. This scenario continued for quite some time.

After the final strand had been cut and the tears of laughter (theirs) and the tears of distress (mine) were wiped from our eyes, we assessed the finished product. Sexy twin and I were no longer identical twins, we were now fraternal uni-sex twins. She being the girl, and me the boy! Luckily I am a good sport and within a few short months all was forgiven and I had begun to adjust to my crew-cut.

Last Friday I decided it was time for a change. I was booked in for a colour with Angel and decided that maybe, just maybe, I should be brave and lop the locks! My hair was the longest it has ever been and in some small way seemed reflective of my weight loss journey. Ever since my scarring haircut at the tender age of 13, I had kept my hair relatively short. In College I sported a bob (which Muscle Man called the Bob on a Blob - lucky I love him!). After College my hair was still only touching my shoulders, and for much of the last 6 or so years it had been no longer than this length.

Yes, somehow my long hair signified the changes in me. The changes in my weight. I think unintentionally I had concluded that I couldn't have long hair as I was not skinny enough to pull off the long blonde tresses Sexy Twin did, and has for the majority of our lives. I had unintentionally decided that short hair was suitable for me, and that the "Bob on the Blob" was exactly how I felt.

After much thought, and open discussion with relative strangers on the Essential Baby website, I decided I would probably cut my hair. Sitting in the chair at Angel's salon I decided to risk it. It's only hair right!? A few hours later I left the salon and burst into tears. Angel did a brilliant job. The colour was perfect, the cut sheek, yet all I could see was remnants of my past. The big girl sporting the short hair.

I call these my "Fat goggles". We've all heard of the beer goggles but how many of us acknowledge that we also, at times, look at ourselves through Fat goggles? We see ourselves entirely different to others, or indeed to the simple reality of how we really look. I look in the mirror and see a bulging and intrusive curve where my waist meets my hips. Muscle Man looks at the same spot and sees his sexy wife with a gorgeous curvaceous body. As he'd say - curves in all the right places. I look at my new short do and see glimpses of unhappy times. Times where my cheeks were so big they gave my blow dried and pooffed up hair a run for it's volumising money. Times where I slumped around wearing Muscle Man's giant jumpers and tracksuit pants to hide the bulges. Times where my head was a little blonde bob on a round and 'lumpy' body.

Yes, my fat goggles at times live on. But, as I learn to style and love my hair cut, I am also learning to acknowledge these past feelings and thoughts, ponder them for a minute, feel the emotions that came with them and then gently release them (who am I kidding, they are getting an arse kicking to the curb). After all, I am NO longer a bob on a blob!

*** I should add - the time capsule was burried, well over 10 years ago now. I think houses were built on the spot, so a perfectly good packet of grape Hubba Bubba went to waste!





*** OK, here's a pic since you asked so nicely. It's not as short as it could be - but I had roughly 20cm chopped, if not more :o)