“A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.” – Coco Chanel
Friday, September 19th
I’ve been pondering a hair cut for some time now. It took a lot of time and energy to get myself into a salon. I arranged childcare. I Pinterested hairstyles that I liked. I bit my lip and I went for it.
There was something holding me back from doing this for a long time. I can’t really pin exactly why I was having a hard time making the appointment, but a big part of it was letting go of the woman who I’d become since giving birth. I had let my hair grow for most of that time, so this hair was a document of my motherhood. Each inch represented a year of diapering, breastfeeding, and nurturing my children. The story of my family was written on these strands, one fritzed tress at a time.
I went short. Why short? Why did growing it long seem to make a statement? I don’t know. It just did. I didn’t cut it out of vanity, but I wanted to surprise people. I wanted people who had met me and assumed I was a middle aged mother who didn’t know two bits about style to see that I was and am more than that. I have learned a lot by stepping back from the rat race of shopping and preening; while I like to express myself through my style, I don’t want to be a slave to that. I’m in this life to focus on the best way to live it.
It just so happens that this haircut was a welcome jolt. I look different. I feel younger. It’s getting me attention. Those are good things and I will take the opportunity to celebrate my new ‘do and new outlook.
Can a haircut really change your life?