The Road to Redemption...

Mullets.

When I was a kid, probably around the age of 5 my mother and I couldn't agree on which hairstyle suited me best. She preferred me with short hair, and I wanted long hair, and we just couldn't see eye to eye on the matter. She believed short hair really defined my beautiful frizzy curls, I believed long hair would make me look like the sophisticated woman that I was. Even after many lengthy, and I would like to think intellectual, discussions neither of us were willing to back down, but to save our family from the certain collapse hairstyle quarrels inevitably bring, we did manage to come to some form of an agreement. My hair would be kept nice and short in the front to keep her happy, and I was free to grow long luxurious hair at the back. It was a victory for me and I thought it sounded perfectly reasonable. It didn't occur to me at the time that I had in fact compromised my hair into the now infamous and quite unattractive haircut better known as the Mullet. I have to mention it was the 80's and yes it was simpler times, but even then the only people who could pull off a frizzy little curl mullet, and barely at that, were Sport-legends and Rockstars, and I know this may come as a surprise, but I was neither. I was just a chubby little girl with a mullet.

The photo unfortunately doesn't illustrate the full glory of my once proud mane, the reason for this is that the world then as it is now was filled with institutions, and institutions have always been filled with rules, and even though I clearly was a master negotiator, I was not above said rules, so I had to comply and tame my locks every day I had to go to school. The picture at the top of the page, is me sporting a very stylin look I created especially for picture-day. The party at the back hair was side-swept, into my attempt at a side-ponytail, and I can almost guarantee what held it all of this magic in place was a scrunchy...I knew how to make myself look good.

Tiaras.

So as a parent what should you do with a chubby little mullet-haired girl? Well why not take a page out of my mother's book and enter her into every children's beauty pageant you can find.

 I believe my mother never wanted to be a housewife, she always enjoyed working, but in the spirit of the times she quit her job to raise the kids, but this bored her a little bit and she had to find creative ways of entertaining herself. Now till this day I am not sure whether my mother had a wicked sense of humour, genuinely believed I was pretty, drank too much or simply wanted the world to teach me a few lessons, but I did end up on many a stage before my 10th birthday, and more often than not it was in a bathing suit. To be fair it wasn't all my mother's idea, o no, the truth is the chubby little mullet girl had amazing self confidence, supported by the fact that she believed she was born into this world to be a star. Yes I was the kind of kid whose mother didn't have to tell her she was special, for you see I was too busy telling my mother that I was. I would perform anywhere and everywhere for anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact. I would sing, I would dance, I would tell stories, anything to keep my public entertained while I waited to be 'discovered'. I remember a conversation I had with my mother once, round about the time I had my first mullet cut, I can't remember what I said exactly but it boiled down to me telling her that I truly believed I was destined for greatness, and her response simply was: "O we all think that dear". My dear mother supported me in all my endeavours and she believed I had just as good a shot as anybody else to achieve things, but she has never been in the business of feeding my ego.

Being the chubby, mullet haired kid in a beauty pageant has taught me a few things. First of all, you must develop a sense of humour because you will never make it based on your looks alone. There will always be people who will cheer you on, focus on those people and drown out the rest. When I was 7, by some fluke of nature or because my mother pulled a few strings that were better left un-pulled, I made it into a rather large, rather serious bikini contest. Now I was confident, not stupid and I knew I had no business being there, but not being one to back down I decided to go for it. I had a rather big belly so I knew a bikini would not do, so I opted for a neon-yellow polka-dot one-piece, and pink shorts to cover my stubby little legs. Yes, I had style.

The place was filled with people and I will never forget the looks of confusion on their faces when I first walked out on that stage.  My mere presence upset a few of them because they believed I didn't understand my part in this world, to them there was a natural order to life, and I was clearly messing with it. Some looked at me in utter astonishment and then proceeded to clap their hands awkwardly, because most people will at least try to be nice, and then there were those people who I could see respected my balls, and they would always cheer the loudest. You should always look for these people in life, and then befriend them immediately.

The pageants have also taught me that anyone is willing to talk to you, if you are friendly, show a genuine interest and never ask stupid questions. I have never won a beauty contest, but I always ended up making a lot of friends. The most invaluable lesson that I learned is that everybody, and I do mean everybody feels insecure at times so you don't ever have to feel bad if you do too. I would be surrounded by the most beautiful girls, girls who had every right to be entered into a bikini contest, girls so pretty I would stare at them weirdly, like my eyes couldn't believe humans like that could exist in real life, and they would be terrified of going on stage, they would believe THEY weren't good enough. Yes we all doubt ourselves sometimes, even beauty-queens, so there must be hope for the rest of us, even chubby, little mullet-haired girls.

A little bit of faith.

So what is the point of all this? Why am I telling you about the overconfident mullet-rocking chubby little girl that took part in beauty pageants because she believed she was destined for greatness? The answer is as simple as it is sad. In true Disney's The Kid style that chubby little girl is what I have spent my entire life trying to get away from. She became the bane of my existence, something that I had to overcome, something that I had to burry away.

Somewhere along mullet-girl’s path she allowed the world and its inhabitants to get to her, she lost faith in herself and then gradually in everything else, the self-confidence was replaced with self-doubt, and she started to believe that she was somehow not good enough. She was replaced by a shadow, a chameleon, someone who would adapt to any situation in order to get people to like her. She always looked to others to make her feel like she was worthy, to make her believe that she was good enough. She became someone who built walls, who put on masks and she fragmented into many parts to protect herself. We all know, because I am sure a lot of you have similar stories, that losing yourself, or betraying the little kid inside, doesn't happen overnight. It is a gradual process and we are often not aware of it happening. It is only in reflection that we realise that we have some-how lost something, that somewhere along the road we steered off course and got stuck. Then one-day if you are lucky, you wake up and you wonder how exactly did you get there.

I am not going to go into details about the events that forced me to open my eyes, it wasn’t big or extreme, more like a persistent, annoying nudge, but I will tell you a little bit about the process: Something happens that shifts your perception on everything you thought you knew, this causes great inner turmoil and without realising it you become a little self destructive, you battle with yourself, you try to cling to the illusions you have created, but you have already begun to change and you can’t go back to what you once were. Yet you continue to wage war, against the world, against yourself and without fully realising what you are doing you orchestrate your own fall from grace, because deep down you know you were meant to fall, because only falling can free you from the lies you so desperately cling to. This is the point, I believe, where your real journey starts, that moment when you become aware you have a choice; keep repeating the same mistakes and whither away or resurrect yourself. This is the time to get up, return to the road and try to find the way back to who you really are.

This sounds very impressive doesn’t it? Unfortunately, I honestly have no idea how to do it. Still, at least trying something is always better than doing nothing and just hoping things will change themselves. I can't afford a trip around the world...these stories often start with a trip around the world, and as amazing as it sounds to try and find yourself in some foreign country to me it will simply be running away, and honestly I don't think that is what I am supposed to do right now. So I will keep it a little closer to home and focus on the things that I actually can control; my thoughts, the words that come out of my mouth, and the things that enter my body. It is said that if you want to change the world, the best place to start is with yourself, so it is in the spirit of these words that I set out on this inward quest. I call it "The road to Redemption" because I like being overdramatic like that, and also because along the path of losing the little kid inside I did manage to screw up quite a bit and I genuinely want to redeem myself, make things right, forgive myself and let go of all the things that I cannot control, and hopefully learn a few things in the process.

The Road to Redemption -40 Days of reflection.

I have set myself a challenge, I have done this many times before but frankly I am weak-willed and rebellious, so rebellious in fact that I even rebel against challenges I set for myself.  This time however, I am making it official by writing about it so I have to hold myself accountable.

The principles of this challenge are not new, at the heart of it lies sacrifice, giving up earthly pleasures to attain greater clarity of thought. In my time on this earth I have managed to attain quite a few vices. I smoke like a champion, and even though I don't eat my feelings anymore I sure do drink em, I am generally unhealthy and extremely cynical and none of this really serves me. I have come to realise that all of these things are merely distractions that keep me from facing the things I need to face, addictions to fill the void that was left by the departure of the little mullet-haired girl.  

For 40 days I will not smoke or allow alcohol to cross my lips. I will cut out all sugar and caffeine,  I will focus on exercising, and I will write about my experiences every day. The only thing that I can control is myself, and I will start with my body, I will master it by avoiding instant gratification, I will clean out the temple, and perhaps by doing this I will get to know myself again. I have no guarantee that any of this will lead to earth-shattering moments of clarity and wisdom, maybe I will go through terrible withdrawals, become cranky and end up biting someone, maybe nothing happens, or maybe at the end of all of this I simply feel a little bit healthier, whatever the case may be I think it is worth a shot. Who knows maybe I even end up inspiring someone somewhere. Now wouldn’t that be something?

Clarity of thought will off course be reward enough, but I am a firm believer in going out with a bang, so I will end off the 40 days with a photo-shoot. Yes, yes, this is a little vain, and perhaps somewhat silly, not to mention self-indulgent, but I want to show what became of the little mullet-haired girl. I want to show all the incarnations she took on over the years, all the fragments that when combined create in interesting whole...hopefully. It is my way of giving her the crown she never won, oh and let’s be honest sometimes all of us want to feel a little bit pretty...so why not have a photo-shoot?

So here we go The Road to Redemption- 40 Days, will commence tomorrow Monday 18 April 2016. I hope you will come along for the ride.

This is dedicated to those who have, who do, and those who have yet to respect my balls.