Mirror mirror, on the wall

It is at that specific moment in time when I started to panic. My hair wrapped in a towel turban, taking my seat in front of the mirror at the hair dresser's shop. I had just received the terrible news that my hair dresser, who I have been going to religiously for the last four years, has rushed his father to the hospital and will not be there to do my hair. Terrible for the poor old man, I know, but this WAS my engagement day and poor old me was about to have her hair done by one of the "students"!  Selfish, isn't it? But I was only planning to get engaged ONCE, and it was supposed to be perfect.

I looked around for the make up artist and he was not there either. When I asked, someone went to call him and threw it at me, he did not even KNOW I had an appointment!

About to cry, my eyes were getting watery and you could feel the steam build up in my face. Everyone assured me that he WILL be here as soon as he's done with the client he has somewhere else. But this was not enough comforting to relieve my stressful day.

 It is as if these two unfortunate events made me rethink all my decisions. I sat there in front of the mirror, locks of hair lashing my eyes, while the "apprentice" blow dried it, and nothing really mattered since all I was thinking was ,what if this is a message from God that this is just the beginning of my misfortune. What if this relationship was not meant to be, what if the butterflies in my stomach are not just a side effect of the big leap I was taking, and were actually there to tell me something? Why did I feel that although I was 26 years old I was too young to be committing myself to making a home and starting a family? What if I was not up to the challenge? What if I could not live up to the image I have of the perfect wife and mother portrayed by my mom. Will I ever be able to offer my family the love and care I was offered growing up? What if, after I got engaged, I saw a different image of my fiancé other than the man I knew and loved? What if I did not feel I fit in with his family, or if we fought at stupid things like the date of the wedding or the color of living room curtains. Will I be wise enough to know my priorities and set my goals and work on them?

Thoughts roamed and raged in my head while brushes and hair rollers shaped my hair, and while my eyes gazed vaguely into the mirror in front of me, I realized that the tapping on my back was not the hairdresser wanting me to move my head, but the make up artist who had greeted me twice without me realizing he was already there.

After exchanging a few words, on what kind of make up I want ,and what color dress I was wearing, he proceeded with his magical touches, toning my skin, and covering the ugly zit that was about to pop on my cheek. I had to ask him for a minute to check the sms I just received. It was my fiancé checking on me. Weird how even before reading his sweet words, just seeing his name on my mobile made me smile, and forget all my fears and worries. His words that had nothing to do with what was alarming me, gave me so much comfort that I actually smiled as I looked in the mirror. The zit was already disguised, my face was a clear canvas on which make up was tastefully being applied and the day did not seem so gloomy afterall. As I looked in the mirror now, the vague reflection I saw earlier was gone. I actually saw my face in there, and it was the face of a woman in love. 

 

March 2007