Of hair salons...

I'm currently sitting in the chair at the salon, waiting for my color to permeate my hair follicles while reading magazines, checking my phone, and sipping wine (it's a Reston salon--they don't mess around!). At one point, going to the stylist was fun; I loved coming out feeling EVEN fresher and younger than when I went in--but those days seem to be gone.

Now, I put off coming back to the salon for as long as possible, which really means until even wearing my hair curly won't cover the grey anymore. I hate making small talk with my (really lovely and sweet) stylist; I hate looking at all the beautiful, young, glamorous women around me; I hate looking at my pudgy chipmunk cheeks and double chin in the mirror when my hair is slicked back with color or water. Today, I particularly hate how bloated and sad I feel, thanks to the spot I'm in in our current cycle.

How is it that the thing that used to make me feel so beautiful now just makes me feel defeated? When did going to the salon become about covering up the perceived ugly instead of highlighting the present beauty? And how will I ever reclaim feeling beautiful and successful just because I'm me--not because I'm a good teacher or wife or friend?

I wish changing my mental state was as easy as changing the color of my hair.