Short Red Hair and Painted Face

My hair is growing back. Very short; I should say very, very, very short. Not the spikey red hair that I used to have but thanks to Richard (my wonderful hairdresser) it is red again. It is a bold step on my part to wear it like this. I get mixed reviews - "sophisticated", "i want to wear my hair like that", "at least its growing back", "it must be easy". So the jury is out. But by the time I get the final verdict it will be longer (I hope) or I'll be having more chemotherapy and probably lose it again (I hope not). But should I even care what others think!
So now with this super-dooper short red hair that exposes me so shamelessly, I add even more make-up to my face. Why do I do this? I think I keep searching for that beauty that is supposed to be within me. People tell me it's there but I keep adding paint to the outside in the hope that it will make it through to the inside. I paint my eyes - "the eyes are the windows to the soul". I know I heard that quote somewhere. So I invite my friends to be attracted to the outside but peer through my eyes to my soul.
I paint my lips so the world can see a smile. I am physically feeling better so I have been smiling more. The lipstick actually looks better when I smile. The connection between the physical and emotional self is just so close.
I wonder why I worry so much about the way I present myself to the world. Spikey red hair, red lipstick, painted eyelids are all part of the what the world sees. Do strangers even look? Do friends even notice? Does anyone see the sadness or the sickness that lies deep inside me? Does it really matter?
My friends that know me well will look through my eyes and underneath my smile. On this day the smile is real and my eyes are truly smiling - although my hair may not be as spikey as I want, my lipstick may need to be reapplied and my painted eyes may be smudged. I am among friends who have seen my soul.