Cutting My Curls

I have tried for two years to grow my hair. I have willed my ringlets to unravel into luscious locks. I love my curls, I just wanted them long and voluminous, and instead they became tangled and stringy. I pined for the silky mane of long haired ladies so I tamed the frizz and embraced the layers, I postponed every haircut for a few more inches, but in two years I never got what I was after. Turns out my hair just doesn’t do long as well as I would like. My curls just droop and everything hangs flat. I feel like I’m wearing a deflated mop. So today, after much procrastination, I cut my curls.

I don’t mean to dramatize the event. It was just a haircut; I have never been one to fret over lost locks as they will always grow back. But I would like to say how good it feels to have back my bob. Curls flying above my shoulders, just clipping the base of my ear. There is energy back, there is life, and there is a weight off my shoulders. My neck feels nimble and there is a bounce in the layers as they twist between my fingers.  Nobody really gives justice to a good haircut, but there is little more liberating than sassy style you can be proud to flip. Just a snip of the scissors and you feel like a new you, or like the you you love.

I know it was just a haircut, but it feels so damn good!

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