Two days ago, I said a big “f-ck it” and cut off SEVERAL inches of my hair. I have always wanted to try a short (as in too short to put up) hairstyle. Finally, I just did it. First I cut it into a chin length bob. Then, I decided I wanted some tapering, to make it seem a little funkier. Before I knew it, I had pieces of hair that were barely three inches long.
I had to chug a beer.
It helps that my mom is also my hair stylist. I started to breathe like I was in a Lamaze class. My mother paused and said, “Do you want a beer?”
Um, have I told you lately that I love you?
She handed me the beer and then basically told me to grow some balls because hair grows back.
Thanks tips. BUT, she was right. It does grow back. My poor mother though, she finished and was in L.O.V.E. So was my dad (my father is one of the few men out there who loves a woman with short hair). Anyway, I say my poor mother, because I ran my fingers through my hair and without missing a beat, the waterworks began. It took more tears, a couple gravol and a good night’s sleep, to finally embrace the new do. I was in the shower the next day and suddenly felt liberated with my lack of locks. Once out of the shower, I dried my hair (at a new rate that gave me unspeakable joy), put on some makeup and fell in love. My features seemed to pop and the style felt fresh. I have always heard that cutting ones hair can symbolize shedding the past, and that is exactly how I am looking at it. 2013, at least the latter part of it, has been pretty brutal. I lost my job, I have struggled for money, I carry a void that is filled with people I miss due to various circumstances, and I lost my grandmother. I have high hopes for 2014, and it seems appropriate to start it with some kick-ass hair.