"Easy mistake." I patted her shoulder. "Easy to fix, too. I'll show you a quick way so you can do it at home in less than ten minutes."
She flashed me a smile filled with blue metal. "Thank you."
I plugged in the curling wand before shaking out her beautiful chocolate locks. At least she had a great head of hair to play with.
It was rare for me to be on the floor unless we were short-staffed. But then Yvonne approached me this morning while I was opening up and asked how I got my hair to look all "beachy" and stay that way. I decided to do my yearly good deed by giving the hapless teenager a free tutorial.
It was also an excellent way to distract myself from my meddling employees. Since things with Brian ended, they were relentless in hounding me for details.
What happened? How did it end? Where does he live? We ride at dawn.
Telling them it was none of their business didn't seem to do anything. Sometimes, I missed the days when they were intimidated by me.
I smoothed Yvonne's hair between my forefinger and middle finger before observing her ends. "Hmm," I hummed. "Can I give you a tiny trim to get rid of these dead ends?"
Her eyes lit up, and her head bobbed enthusiastically. "Sure."
I gave what I hoped was a comforting smile before grabbing a brush, comb and shears.
"I love your skirt," Yvonne murmured, staring wistfully at my long legs.
Yvonne was a pretty girl. She still had that rounded face of someone who hadn't quite shed that adorable puppy plumpness that became the bane of some teenage girls' existence. I could also tell she hid her body away with baggy shirts and jeans. I wanted to tell her that this awkward phase would end and she'd learn to accept herself.
But I knew telling Yvonne that was a waste of time. When you're living in the moment, you scarcely thought of the future. Your whole life is school, cute boys, acne, and dances. Or for me: how to make a dollar stretch so I could have lunchanddinner, the best spots to steal a free shower when the water was turned off, and how to avoid being felt up by mom's latest boyfriend. Was it a bit jaded of me? Probably. But I was more of a "push them off a branch to see if they'll fly" kind of nurturer. She'd figure it out.
"Everyone needs a good mini skirt, don't ya think." I winked at her. "This one in red would look fab on you." Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and she sat up straighter in her chair.
I started applying a heat protection spray before combing out the strands again.
I caught myself in one of our floor-length mirrors to see what Yvonne saw. I was wearing an asymmetrical black denim mini-skirt. It cost me a pretty penny and was definitely a post-break-up purchase, but it made me feel like...me. Truth was, I loved my long hair, my sexy skirts, and dresses. I loved low-cut tops that fitted my form and showcased the only thing I was thankful for inheriting from my mom. I realized I didn't wear them to attract men; I wore them because they made me feel good. Sexy.
I thought if I wore more conservative numbers, then I would attract the "right guy." As Dr. Anna imparted, it wasn't my outward appearance I needed to change. In fact, changing any faucet of personality that was neither toxic to myself nor others would still attract the kind of men that weren't right for me. Hiding my true self in the long run, essentially being untruthful to a potential partner, would lead to more strife.
"You understand the red flags and triggers, yet the issue is correcting the belief that you're not good enough for the kind of love you deserve," Dr. Anna had advised. "Yes, you need to form healthier connections, but the most important thing is to develop a healthier relationship with yourself. It's not a bad thing to want love, to be loved. Finding a loving and caring partner is a beautiful thing. But why do you need one? Why is it so important to you? Are you in the right mental state to willingly be in a healthy relationship for yourself and your future partner?"
It made sense now why Dr. Anna insisted on digging up my childhood so hard. I knew a good chunk of the answer lay in my mom's negligence and unhealthy habits with men. My childhoodwas unstable, so I was constantly seeking an anchor. Someone who would love and care for me, but most importantly, never leave me. I needed it so badly that I ended up with men who were never emotionally available to me.
God, I wished I’d tried therapy sooner. But you don't know you need help until you hit rock bottom. I thought that line for me was Logan. But Brian—the guy I thought genuinely liked me for me—was the one to thank for propelling me into seeking help.
It had been a little over four weeks since I ended things with Brian. Not that there was much to end. We barely dated. So why I felt like I’d lost someone vital to me after such an insignificant amount of time was a mystery to me. I made a note to bring it up with Dr. Anna at some point.
The girls were devastated for me. I kept the details to myself; however, that didn't stop them from volunteering to sew a voodoo doll of him. It warmed my heart that they didn't automatically assume I was in the wrong. I had a feeling that even if I were, they would still go to bat for me.
I put on a brave face with them, but the truth was, I was devastated, too. I honestly thought Brian and I could've had something extraordinary. I didn't hate him or lay blame on him. I guess I was grateful that he was upfront with me before anything sexual developed between us and any real feelings on my end started.
And maybe if you keep telling yourself that it'll be true.
I shook my head and picked up the curling iron.
No.
No more thinking of Brian. No more men.
Period.
"Okay," I smiled brightly at Yvonne's eager face. "You ready to learn?"
Chapter 16
