I can't say how long it has been for certain, but it was definitely high school at the latest. I'm change averse, but this one takes it to the extreme. I've tried to change, but it hasn't worked in the past. Yesterday, I tried again and I think it took. I may finally have actually purchased a new hairbrush.
It's odd to be this reflective over something so simple, but it really has been a long time. It went to college with me. It went to law school. It's travelled from ATL to BOS, back to my childhood home near PHL, and now out to SCE (the less well-known airport code for State College, PA). It prepped for dates with the wrong guys and for a party where I stumbled upon the right one. It has seen countless hours of fighting with my hair, which has often been the unfair target of a complex affair with the image in the mirror.
I've bought new brushes in the past, when I simply felt like I should or when I felt like was somehow inappropriate because it didn't look like other women's brushes. I remember trying as far back as my senior year in college. It never took and the new brush wound up a gym bag spare, if it was lucky. But this week, I suddenly felt like the brush wasn't "working" and I bought a new one yesterday, because I actually wanted it. I spent way too long in the hair aisle, although I will defend it as something of a big decision for any woman and I did pick one fairly different. And, while it is only 24 hours later, I love it.
I like to find meaning in things. But, and there's a contradiction in writing this statement, perhaps this change doesn't have any deep meaning. I'm not tossing my old brush. It's seen a lot and we have a long history, it is a mere object but the history imbues it with meaning. But maybe buying a new one doesn't, maybe I simply bought a hairbrush.