Bangs are Good for the Soul

Ahoy there!
I know, I know, I'm super lazy and haven't posted in here in forever. Please forgive me. I'm forgiven? Sweet, moving on.

I thought that I should let you know that just because I have stopped posting on here doesn't mean that I am not still on my journey to self acceptance- it is a daily battle that God is helping me with. Recently, I have contemplated putting the verse, "For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart." (1 Samuel 16:7b) on my bathroom mirror so I remember to check myself while getting ready (anyone with an idea on how to accomplish this is a cute way, hit me up!)

I wanted to talk about something in my life that is kind of a small thing, yet a big thing for me at the same time. As most of you know, I have recently cut my bangs pretty short. They are called "pixie bangs" and I have always thought they were cute on other girls, but not something I ever thought I could pull off. Before, I had always had long bangs in attempt to hide my flaws. Acne was one of the main reasons, but also because I thought it would hide my large forehead and distract from my nose (which I am still trying to make peace with). I'm not sure what made me do it, but one morning I woke up and told Daniel that I was cutting my bangs off. And sweet Dannyboy, being quite used to me being a crazy person, simply said, "Ok. Sounds cute."

So with Daniel's approval, I made an appointment to have my bangs hacked off. I was empowered, or so I thought. When the day of the appointment came, I almost chickened out. I coulndn't do it. What if I got a breakout? How would I hide my skin on a bad day? What if nobody likes it? Then it hit me: who cares? So someone sees a zit on my face. So what? Does it change the fact that I am loved by the Creator of the universe? No, it does not. What if somebody says they don't like it? Big whoop, they'll get over it. I was not put on this earth to please people with my hair. So then and there, I made a promise to myself: I was going to be happy with myself whether people liked my hair or not. Even if I hated it, I was going to be ok. Nothing anybody said about it was going to change how I veiwed myself. Later that day, I sat that stylist's chair and watched my security blanket literally get cut away. I had nothing to hide behind, and it felt pretty stinkin good.

Turns out, I love my hair now and I wish I had done this a long time ago. Daniel likes it too, which is a good thing for him, because I don't plan on growing them out anytime soon. But as I suspected, not all of the feedback on my hair has been positive. I've had people ask me if it was an accident, or if I was going to grow them out as soon as possible. I've even had one person tell me to my face that they didnt like it, but you know what? It really doesn't bother me. Now, if someone told sixteen-year-old-me that they straight up thought my hair looked bad, I would have acted like it didn't bother me, then ran into my room sobbing like a three year old. But now, I can honestly say that I don't feel that way anymore. If you don't like the way I look, then feel free to look the other direction. God has given me a freedom that I've never had before, all through a silly haircut!

Thanks for reading, now go do something that scares you! You never know, it just might be awesome!
                            Much love,
                                             Tara