She was trying to make me feel better because I was upset at my boy-length hair. The powers that be wanted me to get a new hairdo, and the stylist cut much more off than I expected. The new style came at the end of a hard transition to a new city and new job, and in retrospect, it was the straw that broke my back. I admit I overreacted. But I hated my hair so much, that for two weeks, I only went to work and back because I didn't want anyone to see me! Isn't that ridiculous? At least I had hair! I ran into an old friend, a TV Consultant, at the National Religious Broadcasters convention, and she said for women in television who are constantly told to fix this or that, hair length is a control issue. She's probably right. I've been told to get my hair permed, colored, straightened, styled, highlighted, smoothed and gelled. I've been told to lose weight, wear different clothes, lower my voice, lose my accent, smile more, not smile as much, wear more makeup and so on.
So it goes back to the prayer I said last year that changed my life: "Lord, I surrender my agenda, my career, my plans to you." And after I finally realized that my hair was growing out, I understood that I needed to surrender it, too. So what if the boss didn't like it long? He's paying me. Last year, when I wasn't getting paid, I wore a pony tail and running gear to the radio station every day. I'd rather get paid! Now, I'm waiting for them to tell me to lose weight, because with all this consternation about my hair, I've been eating a lot of chocolate!
