There's no such thing as a "new do"

At 44, I've decided there's no such thing as a new haircut. By now, I think I've had every variation of every hair style I will ever have - except perhaps the pink pincurls... those will come later.

I say this because I got my hair cut this weekend. I was so excited for my appointment. For the first time (maybe ever), I showed up with a picture in hand that was exactly what I was looking for. It was new, stylish, not too short, very low maintenance, and not like anything I'd ever had before... or so I thought.

I walked out of the salon with cute bangs that are shorter and heavier than I'm used to, and perfectly cut angles that outline my jaw when I put my new shorter hair behind my ears. I wasn't sure if I liked it, but I liked how it felt going outside of my comfort zone and getting something I'd never had before. After all, it's only hair - and it'll grow back.

Today, after showering, I was ready to dry and style the new do on my own... and now that it's done, I realize that it's just a minor variation of a cut I had a few years ago - sort of a bob, sort of not...

The thing that has changed, though, is my face. No matter that I had this cut before and it looked cute. Now, it just makes me look old. Where there used to be a bit of youthful plumbness in my cheeks, now there's a hollow with an ever-so-tiny pocket of skin at the bottom of it. Not a jowl and barely even a sag... but whatever it is, it makes me look different - and older - in this new variation of an old style.

How does that happen? And, where does the time go that gave this permission to happen while I had my attention turned to other things?