So long, long hair

 

I always said I'd chop it all off. 

It was a sort of goal I had set for myself earlier in 2013. I had pushed it into the summer, then until after my grandparent's 50th anniversary, then til the fall, and at a point I had even told myself not to cut it until just right before I planned to move to LA. It was fear and procrastination and discomfort that would always make me push it back. 

I would even articulate my plan to cut my hair for months to friends and coworkers, hoping that it would somehow make my word more real and valid. And although saying I'd do something is innocent enough, if it's said ad nausuem with absolutely nothing to show for it...then despite how earnestly I want my goals, my words would be nothing more than wind. And the wind that comes out of my mouth probably isn't any better than the wind coming out of my ass. 

Then I started thinking about it: if I couldn't take the leap with something as transient and trivial as a hair style, then what made me so sure I could follow through on my word about something truly life altering, like moving to a new city? How long have I been saying I'd move away? How long have I been pushing back the date so that I can cozy up on comfort?

So I did the damn thing!

I think the storied situation for a person to do a drastic haircut is because of a failed relationship or to forget something very painful. That is most certainly not the case for me. But maybe there's something deeper to the act of getting a drastic haircut and it's the assertion of pure ownership of one's body, life, destiny, whatever. It could be that physical reminder that picks up the pieces after a relationship.It could also be that physical reminder that spurs a young adult into completely owning her life.

And that's what I'm talking about. That's the shit I like.

Here's to making big moves.