I had really long hair for a really long time. I told myself I wouldn't cut my hair until I was 30 because my hair was too pretty to cut short. I had various boyfriends and potential boyfriends tell me how much they loved my hair. I foolishly began to believe long hair was the reason I should consider myself beautiful. Those were the days I spent a ridiculous amount of time drying it, combing it and curling it. It was pretty, but it was never the reason I found myself beautiful. It's taken me a while to realize that.
As those around me know, I've been toying with shorter hair for the past few years. That's when I finally cut my hair shorter again (chin length - watch out!). Then I'd let it grow out, waiting about six months to a year to get it cut again. I quickly lost interest in spending a lot of time on my hair. I had so many other things to do with my life.
I really didn't like growing my hair out for the wedding, but I knew how much I'd love it on the day. That kept me from the barber's chair. But after the wedding, away it went, but only to chin length again. It went along like that until I decided to schedule another appointment. An hour before my appointment, I searched around on the Internet for a hair style. I lack the ability to adequately describe what I'd like, so I bring in pictures. I found an adorable chin-length hair cut...and I found a really short, wild hair cut. I printed both, unsure if I had it in me to cut it crazy short.
When I got there, I showed Andrea the pics. I said I was leaning towards the wild cut and she said, "That's the one". She was so ridiculously excited to cut my hair that short. She said I made her night. As the hair fell off my head onto the floor, I was continuously amazed that I had finally done it. I finally found the courage to cut it off, to create my own sense of beauty.
Welcome to Courage-ville:
