Preconceived opinions have such a bad reputation. Assumptions are wrong, people say. Situations must be correctly assessed. I disagree. We’ve all heard that quote by Henry Ford:
“Whether you think you can, or that you can’t, you’re usually right.”
Have you ever given a young kid asparagus for the first time and watched them eye it on their plate in disgust. They definitely don’t want to even try it – it looks disgusting!
Whether you think it’s gross, or whether you think it’s good, you’re right.
When you wake up in the morning and stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, do you smile and say “Good morning, Sunshine! You’re going to have a fabulous day!” Or, when you wake up and stare at yourself through half-closed eyes do you say “Hello, Ugly. You’d better just go back to bed.”
Whether you think you’re great, or whether you think you’re crummy, you’re right.
At my house there are definitely pre-conceived opinions.
I do my own hair and makeup. With my newly paralyzed hands six years ago, I learned to do my makeup first (second thing to learn: eat). But styling my hair was a major challenge that took me years to learn to do.
I have always had short hair that I like big. To get my hair as fluffy as I like it, I need to tease it with a comb. My mom would tease it for me until I got married and then my husband did it for me. As great as it is to have such wonderful people surrounding me and picking up my slack, I was rarely happy with how my hair looked. No one could style it for me the way I wanted, even tough I tried so hard to describe it. It felt like every day was a bad hair day.
My husband was so, so happy when I finally figured out how to tease my own hair. I had been paralyzed for five years. To tease my hair myself, I wrap an elastic headband around my right wrist and “tie” the comb to that hand, wedging it between my fingers.
My other hand had a surgery that allows me to squeeze a fist using my forearm muscles. With this hand, I can hold up large chunks of hair and tease them with my comb.
My hair, which had once been a sore spot and the cause of so much grief, was now under my own control! I was in charge of just how big my hair would be for that day. After I learned to do my hair myself, I rarely had a bad hair day!
But late one night, I realized that I lost my comb. I began searching everywhere – my bathroom, my makeup cases, my purses, my car. I started to panic because it was too late to go out and buy a comb and we had church early in the morning! Even though I’m sure everyone at church would have loved me anyway, I wanted to have nice hair!
My husband could see my distress and began to search our house. He looked everywhere, even up in the high kitchen cupboards that I can’t even reach. He looked under rugs and in the washing machine, but my comb was nowhere to be found.
I started to cry out of frustration, but furrowed my brows as I tried to get control of myself.This wasn’t that big of a deal, I thought. I don’t have to tease my hair. But I cried more at the thought of limp hair for church. Okay, I thought. Get a grip. I could see that I was stressing out my husband as he continued to search frantically for my comb.
I had been working on being a good wife for my husband and being emotionally charged over a lost comb wasn’t in the “Good Wife” manual. I told my husband that I would be self conscious in the morning and I really needed his approval before we went to church. Through muffled tears, I asked him to remember tomorrow to please tell me that he liked my hair so I could feel better about how it looked.
And with the look of a confused, beaten husband who had torn apart the house looking for my small plastic comb, my husband stood before me and threw his arms down at his sides and with all the exasperation you can imagine said, “Meg – I DO like your hair tomorrow!”
At my house there are definitely pre-conceived opinions. Great ones.
I’m always beautiful at my house because my husband decided so yesterday.
Today he is the best husband. As I pick up the string of work clothes from the front door to the bedroom (every day at 5:15), I smile. He is the best husband in the whole world – I decided so yesterday.
The best part about being human is that we can decide how we’re going to feel.
How do you feel today?
How do you feel tomorrow?
Keep on Rollin’
Read Meg and Whit’s Love Story! Meg’s Monthly Message February 2010