So about two months ago I started to become aware of my hair. I know that may sound odd, but I just started to feel it all the time. Obnoxious. It was like all those nights when you've made the brave decision to wear socks to bed. (It can be pretty hit or miss.) And suddenly all you need to do is take off your socks because you've suddenly become aware that they are there, and they are suffocating your feet. That is how my hair began to feel to me. With every time I put on my scarf, and my coat, and my backpack, I felt my hair as I irritatedly pulled it out from under each of these new enemies. It was a constant annoyance.
So a month ago, I chopped it off. Nine inches of it. Every time Patrick took another slice at my hair, instead of feeling panicked and distraught, I felt freer and lighter. And I have not looked back since.
Hello, new short hair cut. You are my new best friend. I have missed you.
Sometimes all it takes is facing the enemy and deciding to make a change.