My husbands haircut

N.B. This text was written the 10th of December 2017, but not published earlier because the change has been kept a secret. I will have timed this post to go live during the evening of the 16th December when all our friends will have seen T.

So, it happened today. A few posts back I wrote rather mystically about something hair related that had occurred and made me cry. Come to think of it, a lot of things have made me cry lately, but that’s beside the point.

The cause of this was when my husband, my lovely T, first jokingly told me that he wanted to get a hair cut and then said it again, admitting that he have had this thought for a while. Not some small cut either, he wanted to shorten his 70 cm (27,5 inches) long hair to a mere centimeter or two (0.3-0.7 inches) meaning he wanted to get rid of everything, more or less.

This came as a huge chock. T have always had long hair and he always said he never want to get rid of it. It was considerably shorter when we became a couple, true, but he wanted to grow it out. As time passed we only trimmed it so it would stay healthy. And I’ve loved it. I have a soft spot for guys with really long, voluminous hair (example). I grew up in the 80-ties so that’s perhaps not such a big surprise when you think about it. But T left it at just telling me for the moment, letting me struggle with my feelings and slowly getting me used to the idea.

1½ week later we bought a hair clipping machine, as that is how short he wanted it, and we had decided that today (10th Dec, 2017) was the day it would happen. I made four long braids of his hair, to get as much length as possible before cutting them off his head. He wants to sell it, so we needed to make sure it was all secure before cutting it off. I handled the situation reasonably well, I didn’t cry but my hands shook slightly from the massive anxiety. I have promised him that I will help him with the machine the first couple of times until he gets the hang of it himself.

It all went a little askew, but we managed to save it so it doesn’t look weird or off. And he looks just like the husband I know and love, just without his long hair. I was worried he would look completely different when it was done.. but his kind eyes, nose and mouth are still the same. I still see my husband, even with this strange change.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t cry afterwards. I did cry, a lot both before and after. The reason for the crying before for it is quite far fetched and silly but bear with me. When I’m down and depressed I have the lowest of self-esteems. I’m afraid of being left (as in a divorce or because of death) and have felt fear for our marriage based on what happened to friends and family. This was especially noticeable when an uncle to T suddenly died and his lovely wife was suddenly standing alone.

I’m kind of naive, it’s gotten better with the years but it’s still there. Things we say never will happen and then happen, sets all the alarms ringing in my mind. If impossible things happen then nothing is secure. So when T wanted to cut his hair, which he said he would never do, my mind made the leap that he also wanted to get rid of me. He have said he will never leave me and I trust his word. But if he wanted to change one thing he said he would never do, what’s stopping him from changing anything else?

Luckily, I trust my husband to the extent that I bring things like this to his attention. We have painstakingly gone through similar discussions before and we have both agreed that when one of us feels insecure or scared, we talk to each other. It was a bit hard when I didn’t know what was the cause my feelings, but once I could put words on them my worries quickly went away after a talk with T.

The best thing about all this though? I feel extremely silly, even now, to admit to having these thoughts and worries. Sadly, it’s not something new either. These thoughts happens. But T have never laughed or ridiculed me because of this. He has always put my fears to rest, firmly, but gently.

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