Nerd Girl(122)

I loved my family.





The spa featured beauty products for sale and a makeup and hair salon. It was a spur of moment decision, but I decided I wanted to get my hair cut after our facials and pedicures were completed. I needed something different. Both my mom and Anna looked at me and shrugged in agreement.

The salon had set it up so that the three of us could sit next to each other for our pedicures. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to stay awake through the uber-relaxing procedure, but I did. In fact, I enjoyed myself immensely. Sadly, I think (mostly due to me) the three of us hadn’t spent time together, just the three of us, in months. Mom caught us up on real estate market and how it was starting to shift back to a sellers’ market and Anna gave us the scoop on the new school year. She always had interesting stories to tell us about the kids in her classroom and some of their parents.

Surprisingly, we didn’t talk much about my relationship foils. When we greeted Mom in the lobby of the spa, she had simply hugged me tight and told me she was glad I was home safe. During our pedicures, she inquired about Dexter and Jamie and some of the things I did on my trip, but I spoke very little about the real reason why I went to visit them in the first place.

It was funny, but mothers seemed to have this uncanny way of giving their child a certain look and the child knew exactly what it meant, without her every having to say anything. I remembered when my mom found a little Ziploc bag of pot in my college backpack. She didn’t lecture me or freak out on me, she merely looked at me with such disappointment that I wanted to crawl into a little hole. That look said so much more than any words ever could have.

The only thing my mom said today that alluded to what I had been going through this past week was to tell me that she was glad I had such good friends to lean on during difficult times. She held my hand and gave me a deep, knowing look that said that she wasn’t judging me, only that she loved me. I knew then that whatever pain I felt was hurting her, too. She just wanted to be with me and help bear the weight of the load. Upon recognizing her unspoken words, my eyes watered both out of my own heartache and my gratitude for her understanding.

After our facials and pedicures, I was ready for my haircut. My mom and Anna sat down next to me to watch.

“So, what would you like to do?” asked the hairstylist.

I twisted my mouth in thought. “Cut it all off.” I heard a gasp behind me. “Like Anne Hathaway’s new short do.”

“Julia, are you sure you want to do that?” Anna asked, looking a little freaked.

I nodded. “Yes. I’m sure.” My lips were pressed in a thin line as I studied myself in the mirror. “I need to feel and see something different when I look in the mirror.”

They looked a little nervous, but I could tell they were attributing my need for a changed look, however drastic, to my emotional state.

“A trip to London was pretty predictable. Why not cut off all your hair, too, if it’s going to make you feel better, right?” Anna shrugged and threw up her hands in resignation. “Fuck, why not?”

Mom shot her a warning look, I suspected for her language, and patted me on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll look just lovely.”

An hour later, I looked at myself in the mirror, touching the hair near my ears and styling it forward with my fingers. The ends were still a little wispy. Fortunately, it didn’t look too butch. In fact, it was quite feminine. It elongated my neck and my collarbone and shoulders looked sharper but more graceful. I stared at all my hair lying on the floor, still in awe of myself for having the nerve to do it.

“Well, I never would’ve thought it, but short really works for you,” Anna said in appreciation. “I love it!”

“Honey, it really does suit you,” Mom said. She smiled and then added, “Good decision.”

“One step at a time …” I mumbled, whispering Dexter’s advice.





On Monday morning, I quit MS. I was once so proud of working there. I had always felt like one of the coveted few that had this great opportunity working for one of the most iconic and sought after companies in the world. Leaving it felt like an end to my own personal era, to a part of my identity. The decision left me with very mixed emotions, both sad and liberating.

It was time. It felt like the right thing to do. Everything I chose to do in my life needed to have a purpose. That’s just who I was. I wasn’t going to let what happened with Ryan defeat my spirit. One might think that quitting MS was evidence of defeat, but I chose to look at it very differently. Being forced to change my career direction was something that I didn’t have direct control over. Sure, it was a consequence of my voluntary actions, but I followed my heart, knowing all the risks. I’d gambled and lost.