A couple days after Adelaide’s pixie plunge, I went to visit Haley at the salon. She has been doing my hair for a long time. We’ve been through five births and an adoption. And so many milestones. Conquered and missed.
She temporarily passed me off to a friend while she did missions, then Savanna passed me back to Haley when she finished dental hygiene school. Haley took so many notes on my hair for Savanna. My hair is complicated and free-spirited. And not easy to balance.
I’ve had the same part since I was a newborn. One side has twice as much hair. But I’ve always loved it. And I love that I don’t have too many expectations for my hair. I just let it be.
When I was 16, I tried to color it. I thought it would help me blend in better in a youth group where I was so different from everyone. Tattoos, piercings, dyed hair. And plain Jane me. But my hair turned red. Like Jean Grey red. It wasn’t supposed to be that red.
My natural highlights were covered up, and I didn’t look like me at all. I was so upset. But my mom hugged me, and said, “It’s just hair. It will come back normal. Let’s buy some lipstick.” I was so self-conscious about it. As I was trying to fit in, I ended up sticking out even more.
It’s been back to its natural color for almost 16 years. Brown. Nothing spectacular, but it’s me. Just my natural color with my natural highlights. And the candy apple tragedy of 1999 makes me chuckle. The Lyndse with a driver’s permit would’ve never predicted that she would be so in love with the hair she was born with.
When I decided to go shorter, I had a hairstyle picked out. Haley said, “No, I don’t think that’ll look good on you. It takes a lot of work and you don’t really work on your hair. You just let it do it’s thing. That’s what I love about you. You always accept that your hair can’t look like everyone else’s.” We found a different shorter style that worked with my laissez faire hair routine. I loved it.
And still do. I genuinely wake up every morning thinking, “I love my hair today.” I wash it, let it dry, sleep on it, comb it out, throw sunglasses in it, work out with just the front pieces up, run my fingers through it, let Bess ‘brush’ it, and go three days without washing it…and it always looks great. Or at least presentable. I never spend more than 3-5 minutes on it.
I was supposed to go in after our trip, but Haley squeezed me in two weeks early. No questions asked. It was unspoken. My previous appointment was two days after my dad-in-law’s death and we were about to leave for his funeral. This time, I needed my hair cut for the sentencing hearing.
Hair seems trivial at times like these, but it’s comforting to feel comfortable with your locks.
And I needed to look beautiful for my anniversary getaway with my husband. Our first getaway in years. Haley has three kids, so she knows what a treat it is to get away with your lover.
Haley sees her work as a mission field. She had known about my past for almost a year and a half, and had been praying Scripture over me from day one. She sent me messages of encouragement and words from the Lord. She brought me Starbucks. She took a photo with my shorts, because she was so proud of me. She’s invested in my life. It’s always been more than hair to her.
The next week, I drove to Colorado. And as I was a Phoenix going into that courtroom, Haley was praying for me. She had supported me from that first awkward conversation. Never questioning me. And my journey ended with a hike near Garden of the Gods in a pair of shoes she had left on my porch while I was at Bob’s viewing.
We were young marrieds when we met. Giggling about silly things. Typical salon talk. Then we became moms. Long pregnancies and even longer adoptions. Went through tribulations. Reached double digit anniversaries with the loves of our lives. Forged a friendship in fire. And prayed one another through some of our darkest days. And through all of that, she still managed to make my hair look beautiful. What a gift.