It’s been three days now that I’ve gone without my drug of choice. Yesterday evening was challenging. I came home from work exhausted and had the house to myself. My pattern in this instance is to use this time for a guilty pleasure, namely watching a show that I watch by myself. The truest of escapes for me is settling into someone else’s story. What I’m realizing as I remove this option from my default menu is I’m beginning to settle into my own.
I’ve been on a deep, unwinding expansive journey for awhile now. The past few months it has intensified. I’m delving into previously unexplored places deep within myself and detoxifying my being on a never before experienced level. It is intense. And my body is reacting intensely. I’ve been working to heal my gut– clear out all of the old sludge that has gathered within me over the past 41 years– and it’s all rising to the surface and erupting onto my skin! My scalp for several months has been angry. It’s itchy and flaky and intensely unhappy. More recently the rest of my skin is beginning to follow suit. I have angry red patches on my face, neck and torso. And they ITCH!!
There’s a strange shame that arises with skin ailments. I remembered last night that as a child I had several skin ailments that made me feel intense shame. I remember desperately wanting to be “normal.” There is the desire to cover and hide. My hair has been doing an effective job of keeping my shedding skin under wraps for months– but in the last three days I’ve realized that my hair has got to go. My desire to hide beneath it is hindering me. As all of the gunk inside of me rises to the surface to be released it feels of utmost importance that I acknowledge it to the world– and that I allow myself to treat it with ease.
So, this evening with the help of my husband and some dear friends, I’m shaving my head. (And yes, I’m going to document the hell out of it– this may be a once in a lifetime experience). I’m removing my protective cover– because it feels necessary. There is a little girl inside of me who truly doesn’t understand that she is safe NO MATTER WHAT. There is no need for her to hide behind anything– and the only way I can effectively communicate that message to her is to remove all of the barriers between myself and the world.
So, while I’m not actually wildly enthusiastic about the idea of having no hair on my head– I am totally clear that it’s what I’ve gotta do. I’m actually completely terrified– but pushing into terror is one of the things I’ve learned to do best.
the edges of myself 