Each and every time I go to the hair dresser, she lies to me. I ask her if she can see the gray hairs that have started to sneak thru the mirage of colors that she had painted my hair last time. I can see them plain as day in my mirror. But my hair dresser is consistant, each and everytime I ask, in telling me "There aren't anymore then there were last time. Those are just strays. Everyone has strays."
Ah, but the ones that we saw at my last appointment were highlighted, dyed and hidden - not to be seen again until the roots extend themselves far enough that the gray stands out against the bleach blond highlights.
I know she is lying but I appreciate it just the same. At 28 years old, I am still happy to be collecting only strays.
It's something that I have been doing my entire life. Not gray hairs, that's something that is new to me. But I have been perfecting the collection of strays long enough that I know to appreciate the uniqueness that a stray can bring into one's life.
Growing up, they came to my life and became pets. Living on a farm, there were always animals around- animals that were born to the farm and rightly belonged to my family. However there were always cats and dogs that found their way onto our farm. They came, searching for food and looking for shelter. Their despiration attracted me to them. I wanted to help make them better, to give them a home. I wanted to take them in. I often did, although it wasn't hard since all could find refuge in a barn.
My own two dogs now are strays of sorts. One was adopted from the humane society, one was given to us free of charge because she was a puppy that wasn't wanted. In a similar fashion, they needed a home and I had the ability to provide. I recognize that I have given shelter to these two animals and that I am an important person in their existance. I also recognize that they have given me just as much laughter and happiness in return.
Yesterday I sat on a rooftop patio, surrounded by girlfriends as we celebrated the future marriage of one. As the sun and beer warmed our spirits, we laughed with each other and I realized that here was a group of women who also could be considered strays.
Only one in the group grew up in Fort Collins. None of us (except for Amanda and I) knew each other longer than 2 and half years. We all came from different parts of the country, have different experiences, have different careers, and came here to Fort Collins for different reasons. I have no doubt that each and everyone of us at one point or another in our relocation to Fort Collins felt lonely and out of place, that we were missing and out of place without the secure harbors of our friends left behind.
It can be difficult to forge new friendships outside of high school and college, the time period when you are trained to be open to networking and establish relationships. I think this is especially true for women because we are often judgemental before we are accepting. We look for faults before we find merrit. We are often petty and superficial before we allow ourselves to be seen as the women who we are, deep down inside. We force these walls up before we allow ourselves to be seen as vulnerable and in need.
With any stray, sometimes you have to show a little good faith and be the one to extend a hand, exposing yourself, before progress towards breaking down a wall can be made. With gray hairs, its allowing the hair to grow and to see if in fact, a gray that will procriate into a temple devoid of melanin rich strands. For stray animals, its setting out food and staying in close proximity, showing that you can be trusted when it is most vulnerable- focused on much needed nurishment with its head exposed.
With these women, I believe that our friendships were formed because each of us allowed ourselves to be exposed and vulnerable early on. We did this by being honest about the fact that we needed each other. It's a vulnerability that I have never allowed to be seen by others, but I am so glad that I did because each of these women has helped make my time here in Fort Collins worth while. I'm sure that they feel the same way.
Like I said earlier, I've become accustomed to collecting strays, and have begun to appreciate what each and every one brings into my life. I couldn't imagine my life without them.
Other than the gray hairs....
