I’ve been growing my hair out for four years, and I got it to the longest it’s ever been before. I had this vision in mind, of flowing hair that hung effortlessly past my shoulders, or thrown back in a cute braid.
That is not what happened.
I have thick hair. Gorgeous, thick, unruly hair, with just enough curl to make it difficult to straighten but not enough to really make it curly as a style.
The longer it got, the more unruly it became. Sure, when I took the time to blow it out and style it, it looked nice. but most days I’d blow it dry a little and then go out with messy waves, or I’d twirl it up in a bun that would give me a headache by the end of the day. (That’s a few pounds of hair on my head, really).
So I’d been thinking about chopping it off, but when I cleaned out the brushes of my vacuum, which were knotted with my long strands of hair.
So it was time to go.
It took about fifteen minutes of convincing my stylist to chop it, and then out the clippers came.
sweater || LL Bean
jeans || Old Navy Rockstar
purse || Kate Spade typewriter satchel
shoes || Star Wars Vans
I wasn’t sure if I was cool enough for an undercut pixie, which is a trendier style. Then I decided I didn’t care. It would be easy to manage and I liked the look of it.
I still want to go back and have it colored—it’s been six months since I’ve had highlights—but I thought I’d like to see how the cut look before deciding on what to do (bright pink, maybe? Or realistically just white blonde. We’ll see.).
It’s a huge change. I looked in the mirror this morning and didn’t recognize myself. But sometimes it’s fun to take the plunge and just go with your gut. I mean, it’s just hair, right? But I do feel that it’s symbolic of some bigger changes I want to make in my life.
When something starts to weigh you down—whether it’s a job, a relationship, or just your hair—sometimes you just have to cut it out of your life.