2/17/2017: When A Woman Cuts Her Hair

People act differently when their hearts are heavy. Bolder; less afraid to act without so much thought beforehand

My heart is far from broken, because I know what a broken heart feels like and this is nothing in comparison, but my heart is still much heavier than normal. It still carries a weight that it did not a few days ago. It still somehow simultaneously feels a little less and a little more than it used to.

When I left high school, I chopped off the hair that I’d spent years growing down to my waist. It was my security blanket, something to hide behind that made me feel sheltered when I was afraid. I was always afraid. So I cut it all off. Okay, not all, but most. I didn’t pull a full on Sinead O’Connor, but it sure felt like I had. Suddenly I was vulnerable and exposed to the rest of the world. I had to face being terribly uncomfortable until I just wasn’t anymore. I wasn’t going to let myself hide forever.

When my long-term boyfriend broke up with me, I cut my hair even shorter and purposefully gave up styling it. I let it be messy, voluminous, and wild. Then I grew it out. I always preferred my long, unkempt hair. He liked it short and tame. If he was going to leave, he could take that version of me with him.

Today I stood in front of my mirror with a pair of scissors and without so much as a second thought, I went for it. With one short intake of a terrified breath, I began to cut. Tiny pieces at first, but it didn’t take me very long to get brave. Suddenly, the long hair that I loved so much remained, but I had bangs. And I loved them.

I loved them so much that I stood there staring at myself and smiling wider than I have in a while, wondering why I never thought to do it sooner. Wondering why I had to wait for something sad to happen in order to give myself an excuse to do something a little crazy. Wondering why I had to let a little heaviness weigh me down.



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