Shame, guilt, and fear around wanting or needing more than what’s being offered — it feels endless sometimes. I waited days to tell Favorite about the haircut situation because it seemed too outrageous to be believed. That’s familiar territory for me; most of my family pain was dismissed as imagined, exaggerated, or self‑inflicted.
I finally forwarded my post to her because she’s someone I want to know the whole truth, especially the parts that make me want to shrink. Her immediate response was sympathy and a push to call him out publicly. Honestly, photos of my hair alone would speak for themselves. My son could have done better with his non‑dominant hand. But I won’t post anything — I don’t want the blowback.
I did notice months ago that the stylist had “liked” me on a dating app, and now I can’t help wondering if the whole thing was some kind of reaction or power move. That old familiar “Who do you think you are?” feeling crept in.
What’s bothering me most isn’t just how I look — it’s realizing I’m still working to recover the parts of myself that know I’m safe, worthy, and deserving of better. I’m tired of people who punish. And I’m still hurt by how much of my family ghosted me, likely to put me “in my place” and define my worth for me. That’s what this brought up today. It’s a hard day. And no, I’m not buying the old story that any of this “serves me right.”
