Lessons from Bad Hair Days 8


Recently, my hair stylist canceled my appointment because she was sick. I’d planned to leave early to get there, but just as I prepared to head out, I got a call. The receptionist relayed the message that my stylist had a virus and wanted me to come the next morning. Once I got over the shock and awe, it hit me. This multi-textured mop I’d been molding into every bun and roll I could, would have to last me another day.

I nearly cried.

Can you relate? Or are you like my talented friends who can watch YouTube and mimic a great hairstyle? When I marvel at their talent, they typically say things like, “Girl, I did this after seeing it on YouTube.” Not one of them has successfully explained how watching YouTube would magically transform my fingers, enabling them to do what they couldn’t before.

My pain was real. When she also cancelled my follow-up appointment, I was nearly hopeless. And no one seemed to understand. My hair was a mess, by my standards, and I felt stuck.

Let me paint you a picture. In high school, I was a cheerleader. Before almost every game the other girls sat me down to ‘get me together.’ Namely, comb my hair. They’d break out the curling irons, rubber bands, or just a comb to get my part straight before they gave me some good old fashioned french braids.

I was “that” girl. And I kinda still am. Ladies who do their own relaxer are like superheroes to me. And these women out here doing their own braids and crochet styles? The Force be with you. Me? I need my stylist to get back on the good foot.

Still skeptical? Still thinking it’s not that serious?

My senior year of high school, I met a college boy I’d end up dating off and on for the next several years. One day, he called to say he was coming to pick me up and take me to meet his mom at her job.

At a hair salon.

Let that sink in. He simultaneously introduced me to his mother and dropped me off to to get my hair done. Seriously. (She was gracious and I love her to this day.)

Curious of what’s at the root of my reaction to – and proclivity for – bad hair days? A deficiency on my part. A lack of skill in handling my business. In this case, my hair.

How do you react when a “bad day” threatens to expose a deficiency? How do you make up for what you lack when you’re missing the skills to work it out on your own? My hair issue is well known and I don’t bother trying to cover it up. If you’re still covering your internal flaws with symbolic make-up, masks, wigs or hats, just know your secret may come out at the worst possible time. Be brave. Engage a professional.


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8 thoughts on “Lessons from Bad Hair Days

  • Ruth DeBonnett-Southall

    I happen to be having that kind of day today…thank you so much for your transparency. I will engage a professional soon. I love you!

    • Lisa E Williams Post author

      I love you, too! And don’t play! You’ll look up and I’ll be outside! Thank you for all the days you were hair stylist, secret keeper, shoulder to cry on, therapist, motivational speaker, make-up artist, sister-friend and more!! I love being a part of your family and your future.

  • Angie

    Lisa, You have a phenomenal writer’s voice! Your words come to life….never mind the fact that so much of this I can relate to on so many levels. I beg to differ with your assessment of your hair expertise. I’d probably be bald if it wasn’t for you keeping hair on my head in college! Keep sharing your beautiful work—it’s inspiring!

    • Lisa E Williams Post author

      Ang, You KNOW I can’t with you! Thanks so much for your words, support, friendship…for coming up to me that day in Dascomb where our story began. And while I was able to help keep hair on YOUR head (I’m giggling thinking about us fumbling with those roller sets and that portable dryer), still doesn’t negate my inability to keep mine together. PLUS, there’s that whole “texture” difference. You have beautiful hair!! Thank you again. Means the world. xoxo

  • Pat DeBonnett

    Dear Lisa,
    I love you and love your writing. You’ve always been such a blessing. I can relate very well to the issue daily. However, after many, many years of the challenge dealing with what my girls say is not hair but cotton. I wear hats or try to get the best style in the morning and don’t look in the mirror anymore throughout the day; which often turns out pretty bad. I can’t complain, God is so good to me, my family and wonderful extended families. It’s all good, at 75, I still have hair. Love, Momma DeBonnett

    • Lisa E Williams Post author

      Momma DeBonnett, This makes me smile down DEEP! Almost every time I see you, you’re in a hat and now I know why! However, you’re also one of the kindest and most prayerful people I know, so I can assure you, neither your hat nor your hairstyle is my focus when you’re around. Thank you for making me a daughter way back when you had so many questions about the direction (and sometimes calamity) of my life, but always sought to encourage me about what God could and would do to turn it around for me. Just like you said He would, He did, and is yet faithful. Love you always!!