Beauty

This is my first official blog on a new site and I want to dedicate it to my mother. The strongest, most incredible woman I have ever had (or will ever have) the privilege of knowing.

I have recently been feeling like my hair needs a makeover. The bun and ponytail have gotten quite old so it is now time for a change. I have been spending a good deal of time searching websites, flipping through magazines, channel surfing, etc to find the "perfect" new look. Asking myself how brave and bold I want to be. I have major anxiety when it comes to my hair. My hair is long, thick and naturally curly, which I am told, is the perfect combination. At this moment (when straight) my hair reaches about 4-5 inches above my waistline. I think it must intrigue people because there aren't a ton of women out there who let their hair get that long these days. Well, because of this, I get a lot of compliments on it. Strangers approach me to tell me how pretty it is. Now, I am not trying to brag or anything, I am just getting to my point... the way I see it, my hair is what makes me "pretty". People don't come up and say, "YOU are so pretty" or "you have such a pretty face", they say, "Wow, your HAIR is so gorgeous". This doesn't make the decision to cut it any easier. Those of you who have experienced this will understand.

Well, today I was reminded of the summer of 2009 when we were told my mother has stage 3 ovarian cancer. We were all devastated, of course, but relieved to hear that with treatments, she could be with us for years to come. About 2 1/2 weeks after her first chemo treatment, she began losing her hair. It was fast and furious and she decided to take care of the problem before it got the best of her. We went to the salon and had them shave her head so she didn't have to go through the agony of having the hair fall out on its own.

That trip to the salon was the first time I had ever seen my mom bald. I think it was harder on me than it was on her. I didn't love her any less or think she was ugly. I knew that hair was a small price to pay for "life". It didn't take long for me to realize that not only had I seen my mom bald for the first time but I also saw her "true" beauty for the first time. I have always loved my mom and always thought she was beautiful. She is my idol. But for the first time I saw her true, raw beauty. I saw the beauty in her heart, the beauty in her strength, in her faith and in her courage. I saw the beauty in her thirst for life and in her desire to beat this awful disease. I was able to see her beautiful bravery that she still has today. Beauty radiated from her like a bright light and does to this day. I have never seen anyone more beautiful than my mother the day she went bald. I still see that beauty in her and I am glad I have the opportunity to see that type of beauty every day.

She is now starting chemo treatments for the third time since that summer and I am grateful for this one little reminder. The hairstyle I pick really doesn't matter because what really makes a person beautiful is not on the outside. It doesn't matter how long or short I have my hair, if I can exhibit even half of the qualities and characteristics my mom has displayed, I will be beautiful.