Yesterday I found myself childless, with nothing to do and with a car. This NEVER happens! So after breakfast with my dad and step mom I was determined to make a hair appointment, hoping someone had an opening for the same day, you know, before I could change my mind. There was an opening with just enough time to drive there so I headed out. I sat in the chair and announced I didn't know what I wanted because it depended on how brave I was feeling and I pulled up my pintrest board filled with hairstyles of varying lengths. After a brief moment of telling me my hair would look fuller if I went a little shorter I said, "Well I guess I'm going to be brave then." As the words left my lips I heard the snip of scissors and saw my ponytail get carried to the trash can behind me. I let out a huge gasp which elicited a wide-eyed expression and giggle from the receptionist. In that moment I thought I might be sick and I heard the lady beside me getting highlights in her long locks say, "I guess it is just hair. It will grow back right?"
"Aren't you going to show her?" the receptionist inquired.
"Nope, we are just going to keep going. Come on over and lets get your hair washed," the stylist was so nonchalant. And with that my hair was gone, no looking back.
The entire drive all I could think of was the silly line in Little Women where Amy is appalled at Jo for cutting of all her hair, her "one true beauty." On days when I feel frumpy and don't like the way clothes are fitting or how my eyeliner never seems to match I say to myself, "at least you've got your long hair" as though that some how compensates. I don't feel at though my hair is my "one true beauty" but I do like that I can fix my hair and feel better about the rest of it. When did I become so emotionally attached to my hair anyway? I think it may be less emotion about my hair and more of my uncertainty of navigating being 31. I mean, if I cut my hair short will I look old? Too young? Were some cuts too trendy? Trendy has never been my thing. Oh God, will I look like a.... soccer mom?? I'm really good at the over analyzing thing.
As I sat in the chair on the verge of tears or perhaps even vomiting, I reminded myself how long I had been wanting to do this. It will be good. Change is good, embrace it! Short hair is sassy and your hair just lives in a ponytail anyway. I pushed aside the memories of the questionable decision to get that pixie in high school and the lovely post-wedding haircut from my sister-in-law while she was in cosmetology (that she stopped short of finishing so she could go fight with her boyfriend.) "It's not that short and this is a paid professional." I told myself. "Plus, it's on your all important list so you cannot bail."
The combination of my pep talk and the 12 inches of hair that was already residing in the trash can kept me in the chair. When they stylist was finished and spun the chair around so I could see my new hair I was in shock over how different I looked. It had been at least six years of long hair. My hands were literally shaking when my hair was carried to the trash. I talked myself into and out of hair cuts for over a year. And you know what? I LOVE my new hair. I don't know why I was so afraid of changing it up for so long!
Here is a peak at the before and after. (The lighting in the before is particularly crummy, but it was almost an after thought and I ran back in to the house and snapped a quick pick before heading out!)
P.S. My sister-in-law does hair professionally now and quite well! If she weren't on maternity leave she would have been the one doing the chopping. I chalk the fore mentioned haircut and the waxing incident as a learning experience!
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