Pantene Beautiful Lengths

My hair is getting long, which is what happens when I get busy. The past year has been crazy and I kind of forgot about my hair and let it do its own thing. As my fellow curly-headed girls might understand, curly hair is probably most low maintenance when it is medium-long. Also, long is probably the way that I like it best: versatile and feminine, it suits my personality.

However, I am not one of those people that freaks out about getting their haircut, either. I don't mind mixing it up sometimes.

I recently heard about how Pantene has joined with the American Cancer Association and is taking hair donations to provide free wigs for women suffering from hair loss due to chemotherapy.
I know that there are a lot of organizations like this (Locks of Love, Children with Hair Loss, ect), but here is what I like about the Pantene Beautiful Lengths:

1. There are several organizations which provide wigs for children, but this one provides wigs for adult women. I have known several women who have lost their hair due to chemotherapy and were unable to afford a wig made out real hair. My mom anticipated losing hers when she started chemo (she was the only patient her doctor ever saw not to lose all of her hair on that particular type of chemo) and I know that it was an uncomfortable prospect for her to face.  Even though I think that it is wonderful that there are several large organizations which focus on providing wigs for children, I like that Pantene is focused on women specifically. I think that hair loss from chemo is especially sensitve for women who want to feel strong and beautiful while they are fighting cancer.

2. Beautiful Lengths accepts donations of 8", unlike many other hair donation companies which require 10" or 12". This makes it a little more feasible for some.

3. Beautiful Lengths has a good reputation for using donations and  is clear about the kind of condition hair needs to be in to be an acceptable donation. They don't want for someone make a donation that can't be used. Some similar organizations are not so squeaky clean when it comes to what happens with their product.

4. Cancer sucks. This is something easy that women can do to give back to other women who are going through something horrible. If you are reading this, I very sincerely hope that you never have to go through the Hell that is cancer. I hope you never have to have it affect you at all through anyone you care about. But the truth is, I've realized, that you never know who it will affect. I think that Pantene Beautiful Lengths is a unique way for women to help other women.


So you're probably wondering, "She's hyping it up so much, is she going to do this?"

Absolutely! Unfortunately, my hair is not in awesome condition at the moment due to its year-long neglect. I dyed my hair about a month ago which is taboo according the the guidelines. I will have to talk to my hairstylist about what do to about that.  I also need to work on getting more regular trims, and am planning to grow my bangs out a bit more before making the cut.  That's something also: if you want to do this, make sure your hair is in the right condition because otherwise your generous intentions could be for nothing. While it may take me a few months to get my hair in right condition to donate it, I am excited about doing this!

My point in writing this post is to make other women aware of what is going on with Pantene Beautiful Lengths and explain why I think it is special and unique. I don't want to pressure anyone, merely to encourage other long-haired girls out there to consider making a change and making someone's battle with cancer a little easier.

Here is a link to the site which includes the requirements and other info:
http://www.pantene.com/en-us/pantenebeautifullengths/details/beautiful-lengths-make-the-cut.aspx

Agape

 I don't know how most of the world works. From the outside, I suppose my life is rather small.

I have a very small family. I teach at a small school. I have a small group of close friends, many of whom don't live close.

But I have always thought that my small life was much bigger on the inside because of love.
I may not know a vast array of people, but those I know, I know to the bone.
 I may be a little quiet and introverted, but when I love you, I promise to love you always.

I have loved so hard and so deep and so through-and-through that once I was convinced  that love could and would save a life.

It did not work. I tried, so hard, to hang on. But when things got truly horrible, there at the end,  love told me it wouldn't work that way. Love is not selfish, and it was selfish to keep trying to hang on.
 So I said, "You can go, it's okay, it's okay. I love you."  They are the hardest words I have ever said.

And even though I know that was the right thing to do, I have had some trouble with love since that day.

I have a lot of thoughts on this (she said after she typed two paragraphs and deleted them). Ultimately, I hope to come back to where Jack (C.S. Lewis) was coming from  when he discussed this topic in The Four Loves.
Funny, I've written more than one paper on The Four Loves. My mind understood it before, but I don't think my heart truly did.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” 

 

From the Grieving Heart to the Concerned Friend

Dear friend,

As the words "How are you doing?"  or  "Are you okay?" spill out of your mouth, I know that you are only asking because you care.  You are trying to help by showing me that yes, you remembered, you understand, you know it's been hard.

Sometimes maybe you ask because you feel like you have to before we can discuss anything else. You want to get it over with.

A lot of times you just ask because you think it's probably the only thing you can do.

Actually, there is nothing you can do.

And even as you ask me the question, out of good intentions no less, I am frustrated.
I have learned that this question is one that I hate. It may help you to feel like you have helped, but to me it is a command performance.

Once you ask it, you are through. You've done well, fufilled your obligations, the ball is in my court.

 For me, it is a difficult decision which I have to make quickly. Do I tell the truth (to precious few, only in the appropriate situations) or do I have to lie...again?

Mostly it is the latter.

"I'm fine."
"I'm doing okay."
"Alright."

Some of you would be fine with the truth, I know. But if I want a normal conversation with you, relationship with you, a normal interaction, then I have to lie. I don't want to go there every time I talk to somebody. You would get tired of it pretty fast if I did. I guarantee it.

To you, it was a very sad thing that happened a few weeks ago.
To me, it is constant. It is every minute. It is every memory. It is a whole reality which has been broken and I am scrambling for debris.

"I'm fine."

The tight, little smile which I hate accompanies those two words, and I know I am the world's worst actor.

If you're especially thoughtful, you might say, "Well, if there is anything you need, be sure to ask."

To fix this? I doubt it. Can you cure cancer? Time travel? Can you fix my heart? My family's hearts? Can you? No, you can't. So,

"No, I'll be okay. I can't think of anything."

I can tell that you think I'm better. But I'm just better at hiding it.

When I cry, I go somewhere private. I make sure my eyes aren't swollen before I come out. When I scream, I do so with no noise, a howling fish out of water. I wrap my arms around myself and breath very quickly. In. Out. In. Out.

I can talk about things, other things. I can even joke around a little.

I do these things for you, so you won't see that life is so fragile and that I am so broken and we are so helpless. I don't want you to feel badly because you cannot make me okay.

I do these things for me, too. I don't want to lose you, or overstay my welcome as "sad friend". I want you to like me. I don't want you to get frustrated and give up on me. I need you, even if there's nothing you can do to fix me.

I get so exhausted from pretending. My introvertism has been so magnified by this that every successful social interaction has become a marathon. I crawl back wearily into my shell, and maybe that is where I belong.

No, I'm not fine. My heart is full of sorrow and you cannot fix it.

But maybe you can do some things to help me survive.
Don't try to fix me. Don't expect me to be okay. Don't give up on me. Give me space, but don't  forget about me. Understand if I am not up for it, and please don't be offended. Keep trying. Know that I am broken, and love me anyway.
We're all just broken people after all.

Your friend,

The Grieving Heart