Chapter 11 - THE SALON VISIT IVY CHOOSES
Three weeks after the wedding, Ivy asked for a salon.
Not because I suggested it.
Her therapist asked:
“What would make your hair easier for you?”
Ivy said:
“I don’t know.”
Then:
“Maybe someone can show me.”
We found a salon experienced with children.
No private family stylist.
No dramatic closed room.
Ivy sat in the chair.
The stylist, Naomi, looked at the shaved strip.
“We can leave everything exactly as it is.”
Ivy nodded.
“We can trim only the damaged side.”
Another nod.
“We can cut the long side shorter to blend.”
Ivy frowned.
“No.”
“Okay.”
No persuasion.
Then:
“We can style the long side over it.”
“Maybe.”
Naomi demonstrated with clips.
Ivy looked in the mirror.
“Can you make a braid?”
“Yes.”
“Small?”
“Yes.”
Naomi braided only the long section.
The shaved strip remained visible.
Ivy studied herself.
Then smiled.
“I look like a warrior.”
I almost said:
You look beautiful.
Stopped.
That would still make appearance the center.
Instead:
“You look like you picked it.”
She looked at me in the mirror.
“Yeah.”
That was better.
Then she asked Naomi:
“How long until this part grows?”
“Hair grows roughly half an inch a month on average, but everyone differs.”
Ivy calculated.
“That’s slow.”
“It is.”
She sighed.
Then:
“Okay.”
A child can survive an unwanted haircut.
Lenora had written that.
True.
May you like
Survival was never the standard.
Consent was.
