This Friday I enjoyed one of the most fabulous activities that woman have claimed as their own for so long – getting my hair done. I spent two hours in the salon while my hair dresser did her best to make me look pretty and we talked about everything from hair to family to fashion. When I finally left I felt a warm glow inside that came from more than being pampered for the afternoon – it was the joy of sharing life with someone else, even if just for a moment.
I feel as if the salon is a sanctuary, where the cares of the world are left behind, and the hard, unapproachable barriers we erect to keep us safe from the outside world, are melted down. It felt so natural to share my feelings, my life, my thoughts with those around me, and then listen as they shared theirs.
As men we are taught that sharing who you are is a sign of weakness. That burdens and heart aches must be carried alone. That our individual suffering makes us stronger.
I have come to realize that burdens are lighter when shared, that friendship is strength and weakness is not knowing when to ask for help. And for just a brief while I enjoyed being part of a woman’s world – the inner sanctum of relaxation and sharing.
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