I’m finding myself in another state of transition, resigning myself to another shift, accepting the uneven ground it brings until time smooths the path once more. There is beauty here, yet it sits in the shadows. I am eager to see it in daylight so I can breathe a sigh of relief that my unstable footing was temporary…and necessary.
As a child, my hair was always long, usually in braids or a ponytail. My dad preferred long hair and so this is how my mom kept it. As I grew older, whenever my life underwent a significant change, I cut it…short. I didn’t realize I was doing this at the time, but as an adult, I can see that the more difficult the transition, the shorter I cut my hair.
I now realize that this is a thing. It’s not that I was angry with my parents, it wasn’t a display of rebellion, but it was something low-risk that I could control. Last week I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, grabbed my shears, and unabashedly cut several inches off my hair.
It’s human nature to find ourselves in situations where we have to make a choice, a choice where neither option is “the right one” or “the wrong one”, but one of them is the right one for the moment…the right one for us. While I now have the autonomy to make decisions in my life, subconsciously I knew this decision was about my children, not me. As a mother, I incessantly worry about making the right choice for them.
We have experienced many blessings at the hands of homeschooling. For almost three years we’ve had the time and freedom to anchor our family in love, while fostering the beliefs and morals we hold sacred. I have watched our children grow, experience, learn, accept, be challenged, navigate adversity, and advocate for themselves. So when my daughter approached me with tears in her eyes pleading for more structure, to return to school, I trusted her to know her needs.
I had been frustrated with my schedule for weeks, craving a regular routine for all of us. As a nurse, I am not guaranteed routine. I am fortunate to not have to work full time, but I am still required to work weekends, holidays, and some weekdays. For the majority of our time at home, this worked for us. We traveled and explored, we learned how to be flexible and self-disciplined. Now, it is no longer working. They need more, and I want more for them. Homeschool served us well, and now I hope this new adventure will serve us just as well. We are all a bit apprehensive because, well, change is difficult. I’m hoping by giving them the autonomy over their education, they will choose to keep their hair. If not…I knit great hats.