agonyaunt | (no subject)

Dear Carolyn: I’m a year out from chemo and still officially cancer-free. Also, my hair is back to normal — yay. To celebrate, I had it dyed a beautiful violet shade, my favorite color.

Now my dad is giving me so much grief about it. He keeps asking why I need everyone to notice me and ask about my cancer. I don’t care if anyone notices my hair; I did it for me. The color makes me smile every time I look in the mirror. And if anyone does mention the color, I tell them I did it because I like the color purple. I never mention cancer at all. Why would I want to talk about that? I feel good, I can run and hike again, and I want to focus on things like that.

My dad refuses to accept my explanation, because he believes everyone who does anything he considers to be out of the ordinary does it “to get attention” or to “freak people out.” I can’t seem to convince him how stupid that is, that people do things because they want to and it makes them happy.

Can you think of a way to get through to him? I’m really tired of having to listen to him criticize my hair every time he sees me.

— Celebrating

Celebrating: Congratulations on your glorious purple survival-anniversary hair.

My advice is to immerse yourself in these and other rewarding parts of your life. Any bit of energy you burn trying to “convince” someone — your father or anyone else — of anything, who clearly has no interest in accepting or being gotten through to, is just going to frustrating waste.

The details of your hair are really intimate and meaningful to you — and this is your father, so of course the relationship is meaningful. But you’re allowing these facts to obscure the only ones germane to your problem: that you can’t make anyone think anything about anything. Nor is it your job to, because what you do with your hair isn’t anyone else’s business anyway, ever. Unless you’re a GI or a New York Yankee.

So stop explaining yourself. Completely.

“He keeps asking”? Okay, then — that’s his prerogative, to be as obnoxious and/or obtuse as he wants to be. You remain as utterly without obligation to explain yourself — not even the first time, but certainly not more than once. “I love it, Dad. Same answer as last time.” Over and over and over and over, verbatim, until he gets the message or forever or until you pare down to no answer at all or less and less Dad. “K Dad” zips you there in four letters. You choose your level of sweetness.

When you’ve got the nonanswer answer down to habit, please dedicate a quiet moment to this question: Which one of you, exactly, has been demanding attention here?

Those who truly believe in not seeking spotlights or freak[ing] people out know how to live and let live. Masters of the art.

Readers’ thoughts:
· You absolutely don’t need to explain yourself, you wonderful warrior, and if you were my child, I would dye my hair purple in solidarity.

· I know this father. I’m sure he’s related to mine. I was further on in life when I learned that Dad saw the things I did as a reflection on him. I wish I’d been able to say, “This isn’t about you, Dad.”

· Could your dad’s response be some delayed reaction to your cancer?

· My experience with people who get all worked up about things other people do that don’t actually impact them is that they’re projecting their own insecurities. They don’t know how to sit with their own discomfort, so they want to share it. I’ve learned to have pity for people who do this because it’s easier on me than being angry or annoyed.

· I have a parental figure who does this, and I recently learned the BEST response: “Are you okay?” Works in all kinds of situations. Ask me the same question for the millionth time. “Are you okay? I keep answering the same thing, and you keep asking. Is something wrong?” Works like a charm.

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I've said it before, and I'll no doubt say it again: When you discuss your choices with people, you're sending the message that your decisions are up for discussion. And if they're not, they're not, so don't do it.

At this point, I'd strongly suggest the atomic weapon of conversation stopping: Get up and leave every time Dad says anything. Yes, even if that means walking out of the party and upsetting Mom. Sooner or later, everybody learns. It shouldn't have to come to that, but at this point it may be too late for a softer approach.

Of course, there's another approach, and that's to laugh lightly and say "I did it specifically to piss you off. Is it working?" and then turn around and talk to somebody else, as though your little joke needs no response. I don't recommend this, but it's funny if you can pull it off.

I love your sarcastic option.

The dad has totally earned that kind of rejoinder at this point. Jesus Christ, it's her hair. Let her alone!!!!! You don't get a vote about her hair!!!

I thought coloring one's hair was officially No Longer Shocking? I mean, I first saw purple hair in about 1980, I think.

I would not say this because I am a coward but Dad deserves to hear “I I died I couldn’t dye my hair. Would that e better?”

"I like this kind of dyeing better."

"Dad, I like my hair. If the hair is on your head, you decide whether or not to dye it, k?"

I did say that to my balding dad, when he didn't like my green hair, after open heart surgery before 45 years old. 😇 I then gave him the "whatever look" from my then 13 year old anytime he brought it up, and changed the subject to some sportsball questions and nobody in the family even follows sports. He stopped pestering me when everyone else was laughing after the third time.

For those of you who know me personally, I did not in fact write this letter. (Nor have I yet dyed my hair to celebrate its post-chemo return.)

I hope you don't have to write this letter! Do I have to come over there and bite someone?

Save your teeth for more tasty things, my dear. ;-) (I actually had a brief video call with my father yesterday, and he was more surprised that my hair hasn't yet returned to my pre-chemo length than anything.)

GOOD.

sends good hair and continued healing vibes

Could your dad’s response be some delayed reaction to your cancer?

Of course it could. That doesn't make it useful or considerate.

(I am often frustrated by this shape of reaction, because it tends to come with a side order of "therefore you need to be more understanding of him," and no, LW is the one who had cancer and also LW is the one whose hair this is, Dad needs to be more understanding of LW.)

…he believes everyone who does anything he considers to be out of the ordinary does it “to get attention” or to “freak people out.”

…When you’ve got the nonanswer answer down to habit, please dedicate a quiet moment to this question: Which one of you, exactly, has been demanding attention here?

Exactly. Ever notice how the sort of people who dismiss behavior they don’t like as attention-seeking feel absolutely entitled to yours on demand?

When my son had purple hair in his adolescence, he got a lot of reactions from middle-aged female strangers; some were judgy, but a lot more were some combination of admiring and envious.

Interpreting colored hair as a way to talk more about cancer is a super-weird take.