Bad Hair Day (originally posted on 10/08/08)

So, this picture was taken a few weeks ago, when I was laughing about having a "bad hair day." I mean, what's the big damned deal about hair, anyhow? Many people are so obsessed with their "look." They spend literally hours of their life on a daily basis making sure every hair is in place, every wrinkle smoothed, every fallen body part lifted, and those that have gone flat, inflated.

I am not one of these.

I laugh at the absurdity of plugging the dam against the rush of aging, barely held at bay with silicone, or botox. What's the point, anyhow? We are all growing more...um...."mature." (Actually, my ex-husband would beg to disagree, having said (often) during our twenty-odd years of marriage one phrase that would only change in the number representing our years together: "I have been waiting (fill in the blank) years for you to grow up!" I would always reply with exactly the same words back: "Then stop waiting, because it isn't going to happen!"

Ever the bad-ass rebel with only the cause of being my genuine self, even before I had a clue whom she might be. I only knew I had to follow my true path, and that might mean I might end up climbing my rocky mountain alone. That fact never bothered me as much as the possibility of "selling out," and fitting into someone else's mold.

Funny that I, strong-willed and fiercely independent, ended up committing my life to living with a mate so diametrically opposed to that genuine self I thought I would never sacrifice.

When I finally got myself together enough to file for a divorce, I realized that I didn't even have a clue where to find her. I would watch my favorite chick-flick, "Shirley Valentine" over and over the last year before I filed, tears in my eyes, vowing to find "The Girl Who Used To Be Me." (Order it here: Song clip )

The divorce took two years. My now-ex took the, "You can't fire me; I quit!" approach and drew the misery out in an attempt to hold onto nearly every cent he ever made (and damned well almost did).

During that interminable time, I began my slow and painful process of finding that girl again- the spirited, independent, self-confident woman who attracted him in the first place, and who he insidiously managed to change completely through the years. I met men from the internet, dated like crazy, found out that I was perfect just the way I am to some men (!), started writing again, socializing, rediscovering a me long-buried, now emerging, like a Phoenix from the ashes.

One day, painting the walls in our vacation condo, where I was residing, I had a couple of thoughts come to mind that were so crazy, so profound, that I had to sit down and contemplate them.

One: I understood, finally, why it is that opposites attract, at least when we're young.

I think it is because we don't know who we are yet, and we meet someone who has qualities that we are lacking. On a subliminal level, the message comes through that by being together, we would be a "perfect whole."

The problem with that is that in living we grow into the person we always were, more and more. Eventually, those two opposites are further apart than they ever believed possible, as their confidence and comfort level rises through life experience, and giving one's self permission and acceptance to grow, and just "be."

My other "profound" realization was that I had never in my life made a single mistake. I know this sounds arrogant, but it isn't meant to be.

I look at my life as a jigsaw puzzle. Every path taken, or avoided, every choice made, or made for me, - who I am, right this moment, is how it all turned out.

If one tiny piece were changed, I would not be exactly who I am right now. And if at any point in your life you are able to say, "I love myself," then you haven't made a mistake. You are exactly where you need to be.

And so my hair is crazy today. Who cares? So am I!!

It wasn't all that many years ago I watched "Shirley Valentine" - (buy it here: Buy Shirley - and dreamed of being Pauline Collins' character, in Mykonos for a fortnight, meeting the handsome "Costas," (Academy Award nominated actor, Tom Conti) playing his guitar, and offering me wine, and so much more.

On November 19, I will be interviewing him, live, from London, on my internet radio show.

Go figure. (Link to show, one of my favorites: TOM CONTI

Life is crazy, and so am I.

And I will continue to be.

Simply "me."

And that's plenty.

www.blogtalkradio.com/olivia