Opinions vs Judgement vs Acceptance

I was looking back at unfinished blogs recently, and came across the bones of today's post.  The original date was early March of 2021, and even back then, I was noodling the difference between someone's opinion of me and my actions, their acceptance of me, and how important that is to me and my acceptance of myself.  

The original post was prompted by an impromptu mole check at my doctor's office, and wondering what their reaction would be to the fact that I had let my leg hair grow past the point of being an accidental oversight in the shower that morning.  Although I felt unabashed by walking around with visible leg hair in most instances, there was still a part of me that winced a little when all eyes were on my legs and the hair that had sprouted could not be denied.  How sure of myself was I, I wondered, if I felt a pang of worry about my doctor's potential reaction?  Aside from checking out the mole, there was no discernible reaction to my leg hair situation, and I left feeling relieved that my mole was "normal" and slightly emboldened that I had not made excuses for my hairy gams. 

Since that episode, I have continued to make choices in my life that feel authentic to who I am, and also challenge my ability to be unfazed by what others might think about my actions.  Most recently, my spur-of-the-moment decision to buzz my hair last weekend after deciding that the haircut I had received was just not 'cutting it' for me (bad pun - sorry, not sorry).  It was a reactionary decision, and while it is not the first time I have busted out my pandemic clippers and shorn my head, I was faced with familiar feelings after I did so - euphoria and liberation mixed with shock and a sense of "oh boy, what have you done".  

This time was different, though, because this time I decided to double down and visit a barber to have them taper the sides and turn my simple one-length buzz into a more sculpted cut.  I have never stepped foot into a barbershop, unless I was taking one of my boys, and I wondered how this was going to go.  Would they welcome me, or would I be made to feel awkward and uncomfortable, as I was quite sure my request was not a common one?  Happily, my fears were put to rest. I had the most enjoyable experience and felt quite pampered as my barber took his time, executed his skill and turned my humble buzz into a much more flattering one. 

Leaving the barbershop, I thought about how many years I had spent worrying about other people's opinions and whether or not their opinions meant I was accepted.  The stress and dis-ease I have felt over the years as I tried to fit into boxes I felt others wanted me to exist within has been exhausting.  And I know that I am not alone in this struggle.  Now I can see that the only person who needs to accept me is me, and that self-acceptance in itself is a work in progress.  Most importantly, I see the difference between accepting a respectfully presented, thoughtful opinion versus a judgment disguised as an opinion, and that is where the biggest shift has taken place.  As with most life lessons, this is a practice that I know I will need to revisit and be reminded of as I continue on down the road.