Better Things

Inspired by Michael-inspired-by-Melissa-inspired-by-Whitney, a tale of self expression through body modification:

A few years ago, during this extended period of upheaval I was going through, I decided that there wasn't enough change going on in my life and therefore started dying my hair purple. I got various reactions ranging from "wow, purple, huh?" to "whatever floats yer boat," but the best of all came from Andrew's mom.

Andrew and I more or less grew up together, having met in middle school, when I was in 8th grade and he in 6th. I don't really remember when we started hanging out or why his mom had such an intense dislike for me, but we did, and she did. His brother Seth and I got along just fine, from the first day we met, when he climbed out from under his decrepit Karmann Ghia, up to the elbows in grease, and chased me around the front yard demanding a hug. But Mrs. D? She was just not a fan of yours truly.

Shrouded in nearly as much mystery is the point in time when she decided that I wasn't so bad after all. One day after I'd graduated from college and Andrew was still away completing his undergrad, I ran into his mom at the pharmacy. I almost didn't recognize her since it'd been a while since I'd seen her, but she walked right up to me and gave me a great big hug. From that day forward, it was like we were old pals.

Cut to a year or so later. I'm about drive up to Richmond to visit Andrew, and he asks if I wouldn't mind stopping by his parents' house to pick up his cello and bring it to him. No problem. They live right around the corner from me. My hair is now purple and I've recently separated from my now-ex-husband. I pull into the driveway right behind Mrs. D and help her carry in her groceries, put them away, then am invited to sit and chat for a minute. She shows me some interior design elements she's added to the house and then goes to get the cello. It's not until I've got the cello in one hand and the doorknob in the other that she seems to notice that something's different about me.

She squints and says, "Oh, so you've done something new with your hair."
"Yeah," I said, "I just thought a change was due."
She nods and thinks for a moment before responding, "You know, my daughter did the same thing when she broke up with that boy she was seeing -" she pauses to lay a hand on my shoulder and look me deep in the eye before finishing, "-don't worry. It got better."