Until I was 48 years old, I had straight hair.

How is that possible, you might be thinking.  We know hormones can change hair – pregnancy?  NO!  menopause?  Nope.

The truth is that I had straight hair until I was 48 simply because up to that point I just believed that I had straight hair. So I acted as if I had straight hair. I told people I had straight hair.  If I had been asked to describe my physical self to someone I would have described myself as somebody with medium length, straight hair. 

Now I knew that my hair took a lot more work than it seemed like was necessary for other people.  It tended to get frizzier.  I mean, I could see other people’s silky smooth hair.  I thought that my hair, while straight, was just uglier than most people’s straight hair.

Because here’s the thing – like most of the stories we tell ourselves over the course of our lives, it actually was true at some point.  Up until puberty my hair was very straight. 

It never even occurred to me to question whether that had changed.  Here was my logic path:  When I was young, my hair was straight.  And my hair must still be straight.  Simple as that.

I recognize how illogical that might seem from the outside – to believe something even when so many objective truths seem to contradict it.

Very rarely, a hairdresser would make the comment that my hair had such beautiful natural curl.  But I was so entrenched in believing that I had straight hair that it did not stick.  I had nowhere for those types of comments to land because I didn’t believe my hair was curly. 

Rather than being curious, I thought I knew. 

Rather than questioning this belief that I had straight hair, I questioned my own worthiness. 

When I looked around and I saw other people’s hair looking better (or at the very least, different) than mine, it never occurred to me to consider the alternative that my original story might have changed. I deduced that something was wrong with me – that I wasn’t as knowledgeable, talented, or pretty as the people around me.  They all seemed to have things figured out.  I didn’t.   

• I assumed that I didn’t know how to care for my hair and everybody else did.
• I assumed that I was using the wrong hair products and nobody else was.
• I assumed that everybody else struggled like I did in humid climates or in rain or after being in any remotely moist environment even when their hair still looked amazing.
• I assumed I was just defective.

It never occurred to me to consider that I was basing all of these conclusions upon a faulty premise.

I just continued to brush my hair, avoid humid climates as much as possible – and showers and pools, straighten my hair, and beat myself up for not looking as good as those around me.

We can believe some crazy things when we don’t stop to question them.

Once we consciously or subconsciously decide to believe something, our brains will go to work finding proof to back it up. 

And if we never stop to question the original belief or stop to consider that things might have changed, we can go on believing things long after it’s just silly to believe them. 

Imagine this, if I told you right now that the world was a terrible place and it was full of unkindnesses and meanness, and I asked each of you to go out into the world and find me 10 reasons to believe that the world is going to hell, you would likely be able to do that.

But if I told you that the world was a beautiful place and it was full of sweetness and love, and I asked you to go out in the world and find me 10 pieces of proof that the world is amazingly beautiful, you would likely be able to do that as well.

We find what we are looking for. 

So looking for the right thing can change your life.

Finally when my oldest daughter was16 she took it upon herself to embark on the curly girl journey – this is a method of caring for curly hair that maximizes moisture to enhance the curl.  She ended up with beautiful ringlets. 

She looked amazing.  At her urging, I decided to give it a shot.  I told her I was different – I didn’t have curly hair, I had ugly frizzy/straight hair. I held no hope of my hair doing anything other than just continuing to frizz up. 

And guess what.  My hair was curly too.

If I can believe for so many decades that my hair is straight even in the face of hairdressers commenting on my curls, even when the other girls around me had hair that was silky smooth, even after waking up in a humid climate with ringlets, even when my mother’s hair was always very curly, even when it obviously was anything but naturally straight, I am certain that I can believe anything.

So, I wonder what else I have taken for granted that just might not be true?  What story am I telling myself that is going to seem absolutely crazy to me once I realize how wrong it is?   

Is it the story that I don’t matter in the world as much as some people?

Maybe it’s the story that getting good grades and having financial success is the way to worthiness?

Or is it the story that I don’t have anything worthwhile to share?

I’m willing to question those things.

What story are you believing about yourself?