Cutting off my hair changed my life.
I'd been struggling for many months: depressed, overweight, working too many hours, feeling terrible nearly every day. Every day started with a battle with my hair. I've let it go gray and every day I revisited that decision. Several times. Along with the color, the texture and bounce left my hair. Every morning I washed it, filled it with mousse and gel before blowing it dry and setting it with Velcro rollers. Then I'd add hair spray and touch up flat spots with a flat iron. Finally, wax and more hair spray.
Within minutes it was completely limp. Completely.
On June 21, I came home from somewhere and walked into my bathroom to brush my teeth. When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I knew something simply HAD to change.
By noon the next day, I was in a chair, explaining my dilemma to a guy who nodded sagely, lifted pieces of hair and watched them fall, and put a new blade in his razor cutter.
Then he hacked my shoulder length hair to about 2 inches long all over my head. My hair is now fringy and spiky and a little edgy, something I've wanted since the day I met the irrepressible Deb in Portland a couple years ago. I've never been brave enough to risk it. Then I hit the wall and knew that even if it didn't work, it would be better than what I had going on.
For days, every time I got near a mirror, I marveled at having cute hair. I put on make up, even to stay home and work. I bought a new outfit.
Four or five days after the hair cut, I took my bicycle to the shop for a tune up. I rode 5 miles the day I got the bike back. Since late June, I have ridden every day--as much as 15 miles at a time. In every way you can think of, I feel better than I have in years.
I've lost weight and gained perspective. My dad's still sick. Several dear friends and loved ones are still facing health challenges. Publishing is still in a tailspin and making a living as a writer and editor is still tough. BUT I feel more capable of facing each day. I"m stronger physically and mentally. I'm happier. When I wake up in the morning, my muscles throb in a it's-good-to-be-alive way.
It is. Good to be alive, I mean.
Especially when you've got cute hair.