The life cycle of the Common White Woman has two distinct phases through which we all must pass, two phases which she finds herself in with neither rhyme nor reason. Two phases through which she will pass ceaselessly until the day she dies. At any give point, she is either:
Growing her bangs out.
OR
Thinking about getting bangs.
This is, once again, the phase I find myself in, as the temperatures here in Phoenix, Arizona begin to creep above 90. As I sink further into the delusion that my hair — thin, fine — will be magically transformed into the thick and luscious mane of Zooey Deschanel as soon as I clip the thinnest parts a bit shorter.
I find myself perusing through old photos where the bangs were, in fact, banging, as though I am still 2 or 27, as though I was not constantly living in a state of monitoring the style or greasiness of my bangs, as though having bangs made me a manic pixie dream girl and not a Lord Farquaad lookalike.
It is not, of course, about the bangs. It is a scratchless itch I feel regularly, mostly when my life begins to slip into any momentary stasis. Because when you have lived in fight or flight for, oh, 14 years, it is hard not to get seasick when the boat stops rocking.
I used to call it Restless Life Syndrome - a sudden urge to move to the woods or a farm, to quit my job, to blow up my life in some way just to feel the earth moving under my feet. Bangs are a mini-itch for that mega-scratch. A little way of saying, I am not who I was! I am different! Look how different I am! I GOT BANGS!
That’s exactly what I’ve been talking about in therapy since I mostly quit my job and got some chickens and realized one of our kids is graduating college and the other is leaving for college in a few months???
Bangs or no bangs, big move or no move, our lives change us as much as we change our lives.
And just when you start to forget that, Google Photos asks you an existential question:
In Case You Missed It:
xo,
Nora
PS - If you like my writing, you might like my new happyish oracle deck: a pack of affirmation cards to get you through the hard things in life.
There’s also a happyish journal, based on my own journaling practice, and created to deprogram us all from centuries of toxic positivity.
I have never had bangs but like to keep the front of my short hair casual and spiky (ha! yeah right!) so that my forehead which is as big as the state of MONTANA doesn't walk into the room first. You do you Nora- you will look great either way!
I haven't thought about getting bangs in a long time, although recently it's become something I'm seriously contemplating. In my case, it's not about style, but about hiding some new wrinkles on my forehead that have suddenly become more pronounced (it happened overnight!). I could get a little botox but that becomes an expensive habit and I'd rather spend my money on something more worthwhile, like gummy bears and sour candies.