“My Life Was In Dire Need of a Ctrl+Alt+Delete” –Anne Taintor

The summer of 6^th grade was a rough one for me. I broke the heart of a boy for the first time, moved to a new neighborhood, started my awkward middle school phase, and got my first bad haircut. You see, ever since I moved from Pennsylvania to Texas I had been working incredibly hard at growing out my bangs. They were in my way, always needed to be trimmed, and more notably outdated. The very week that they were long enough to fit into my pony tail; I cut them.

(Afterthought : what the Eff did I do that for?!?)

After the first cut, you can’t go back. Not to mention, I further decided to offset my throwback bangs by adding blond highlights and layers. Well, those subtle natural looking highlights ended up forming an almost solid layer of yellow around my once brown head, ANDDDD the layers made me look like a mix between a shaggy dog and Farrah Faucet. Can you please envision the horror of my roots as they grew out because mother refused to let me dye my hair back?

WORST PUNISHMENT EVER!!!

{for those who think seeing is believing, here is visual proof… Don't let the smile fool you, my attitude was worst than those sunglasses!}

If I would have known then that were more traumatic situations I would have to live with a lot longer, I probably wouldn’t have cried for nights and nights over my drastic hairdo.

Turns out, as we mature and progress down our paths of life, we are faced with more things that we don’t get a chance to undo; things that time, a bottle of hair dye or a baseball cap can’t fix after they are damaged. Things like misspoken words, life threatening diseases, and Mother Nature’s lovely polka dot pattern on my thighs also known as cellulite. (Though for arguments sake, I am pretty sure that is a gift from the devil and not the one that adorns herself in Prada).

Sometimes you don’t get a second chance, yet security in always doing things right the first time isn't guaranteed either. I don’t believe there has to be a cure in order for you to be healed, nor do I believe that everything happens for a reason. I do, however, believe that there is good in all things. My “new” hair, for instance, was atrocious, but my mother still has the picture in a frame – saved for a good laugh on a bad day. This I am certain.