Never in my life did I think I would choose chop my hair again. Truth is, I'd been growing it out for about six years and, in that course of time, become quite attached. I wasn't like super emotionally attached to the point of sobbing when it gets cut, but the plethora of long, thick, brown hair that surrounded my face gave me a sense of confidence and security that I'm not sure I can explain. Despite the constant tangles, unintentional dipping of it into various foods, closing it in far too many car doors and windows, fear of being strangled by it in my sleep, and the dreaded wind + lip gloss combination, I loved my hair. A lot.
But I needed a change.
I've always secretly wanted to donate my hair, but had never mustered the courage to do so until a few months ago. And since then, I have been really really excited about it. I want to give my hair to someone who needs it. Also, the idea of cutting such a massive amount of hair off my head and just throwing it away makes me cringe.
We ended up taking about 11 inches off, which is a lot of hair. It is definitely shorter than I thought it was going to be, but I like it. We also added some red and purple into it, which I really love. It's super different, but I needed something new. And now my head feels so much lighter.