Yesterday I completed my 100 happy day challenge and I was kind of relieved. It was a great thing to do and really wasn’t that difficult , I just had to remember to do it each day.
Here is the link if you want to take a peak of my 100 photo’s
I have decided that a good writing exercise would be, for me to let each photograph inspire some writing. I won’t do it every day, maybe once a week and will put each post in the 100 happy day category. I’m looking forward to this, as it will help me stay consistent when writers block tries to muzzle in on my creative territory.
If you want to take the 100 happy day challenge, I highly recommend.
During my teens and early twenty’s I had very long hair and dressed like a hippy. I really wasn’t the makeup type of chick and I really didn’t care much for fashion. Having long hair was great and it was low maintenance, although I had to hold it over my shoulder when I ate or paid a visit to the toilet.
I can remember at a certain age longing for a make over, I may have been about 22. I was getting tired of the look, the hair, the image and thinking to myself that I’d like to explore a fresh new look. At the time I was seeing another hippy type of guy and I thought we were going to get married. I was holding on to the long hair because I wanted our wedding to reflect our hippy look. I really do not recommend this thought pattern, it can really hold you back in life.
Then something truly amazing happened, he broke up with me and in the process set me free. I am so thankful for his honesty and bravery as it really did enable me to grow and move on with my life an a positive way. So the first thing I did was visit the hairdresser and got my long blond hair all cut off. I felt so relieved and exhilarated and to this day I have never regretted my decision to cut my hair.
The aftermath of my hair cutting came quite a surprise to me, it was like the whole world took a collective gasp of horror that I could do such a thing. I could not believe the insanity of it all. Some quite openly told me it was a stupid thing to do other’s referred to it as an act of rebellion from being dumped. Strangers on a bus would gasp and then exclaim “you cut your hair”!!
For the world around me, my hair cutting expedition was more a trauma to them then it was for me. I’ve often thought about this catatonic reaction of other’s and wondered what on earth were people thinking ? Did my long hair keep them safe and unchallenged? Had people boxed me to be the long hair chick forever?
For a time I felt insulted by some of the comments that were thrown at me and to this day I view them as out-of-order but without anger. What people didn’t realise was that I was a young girl wanting to grow up and mature. I was and am a person, I am not my hair. I think the world saw my hair and labeled me as such and how dare I do something to shatter that image.
Well many years have passed and I am now 38 and if I had to do it all again I would just do the same. We all mature and grow and we can’t stay forever in our little boxes. My hair is not my identity for my name is Tamar and I’m not my long blond hair.