the anatomy of a haircut.

Yesterday I decided to chop six inches off my hair. Was it impulsive? Yes. Worth it? Definitely. Do I miss my long, luscious hair that I was able to do pretty much anything with? Maybe a little, but not that much. It's hair. It grows back.

There's something a little liberating about chopping something that's been a part of your life for so long right off. Like years of experiences are simply gone. But sometimes, cutting off is a good thing. This was a week where I needed a little impulsivity, a chance to do something for myself to make me feel good. This was a week where things didn't go as planned. So I figured, if that's the way this week was going to be, why not just go against the plans of growing my hair out even more and hack it right off? If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?

See, I'm a girl {congratulations if you realized that before now}. And hair is a big deal to girls. For me, it was almost a security blanket. Things could be going wrong, but I knew that my hair would always look just how I wanted it to. I was in control of that every single day. My hair has always been a feature that I've been known for. Some might call it my best. So, why go taking scissors to it? Maybe it was to prove a point. Maybe it was because I wanted to stick it to the people who have told me they love it and to never cut it. Maybe it was an act of rebellion. I'm not sure. But the security blanket is gone.

Who knew that a haircut had the ability to cause so many feelings?