March 6, 2008


Where to begin?




After spending the last eleven years growing my hair from
a style with short bangs, then to my calves, it is over. Gone. Cut.
If you have never grown your hair to your knees, you likely cannot understand.

The hair I used to have





Now while some out there may laugh, or even scorn me
for being upset over hair when there are far more important
things to be concerned about, I am entitled and I'm going to
exercise my grief.



My hair after being taken out of a loose end braid.
If not mistaken, this was August of 2005 before I trimmed quite a bit.


I spent years complaining about having bangs. In 1996 I cut
them for the last time and began to cut small portions of my
long hair in order to allow my bangs to 'catch up' with the rest.
A few years ago my hair did even out, and a final trim made my
hair all the same length, which I then allowed to grow to my
calves.



Because I was no longer active on long hair care boards on the
internet due to politics, squabbling over religious nonsense and other
crap I had no time for, I dimissed myself from any activity or discussion
about long hair.



After my hair was in a braid all day, it was dried and brushed out.
Wow, did it ever turn out fluffy that day! LOL

Little by little, I asked my husband to trim my hair. First to my
knees, then above my knees, then to my thighs. Soon I found
myself almost in a state of depression, but continuted cutting.
Most recently my hair was classic length, then another cut to
tailbone.




On February 20, 2008, I walked into a salon with my hair wet in a bun
and had it cut shorter than waist length. With bangs.

I cried all day long. And while I know that it is indeed hair and
will grow back, I don't quite know what came over me to do so.
I sat in tears while looking at JJJ's website, who's hair is so
very similar to what mine once was until this week.

Coincidentally, another long haired lovely lady; Leona sent a Myspace
friend request that I initially ignored only because I cried like a baby when
I saw her Myspace page. My hair, once very similar, gone. Chopped.
All the summers, all the winters, all the shampoo, conditioner, hair toys, eating well, taking good care
of my hair.Gone in a second, now wadded up in a black plastic salon bag.

Quality before quantity has always, and will always be my motto.

Maybe it's the time of the month that caused me to become so
upset that I would cut it in the first place. And many would say
that hair is not one's identity, or should not be, but in my case, it was a
part of me I will miss dearly.

The last time I cut my bangs and hair I cried for days and swore
I would never do it again. Recently becoming employed outside of
the home, I guess I felt the need to be a working girl, have a working
girl hairstyle, do working girl things.

This sort of thing happens, I suppose, when one has been home for
so long. You don't think about things like that. You put your hair in
a bun and go about your day.

I absolutely hate my hair now. It isn't even waist length and the bangs are
cut thicker on one side. One side has a long chopped section while the
other does not. For anyone even considering a cut from extreme lengths
to something shorter, let my experience be a lesson to you. Most hair
dressers with asymetrical bobs can't wait to take the razor to your hair.
I will say nothing bad about the lady who cut my hair, she is not to blame.
I'm the one who sat in the chair willingly. You have to admit, it isn't every day
a hairdresser has such an opportunity. Here, cut this. I'll pay you.

So tease me if you will as I slowly begin the journey back to the bun.
I rarely, if ever wore my hair down, it was like a secret I kept. My own
family did not see me with my hair down, instead, they saw a pulled
back bun on a dawdy face in need of a makeover. But when I let my
hair down I felt and looked entirely different. No one needed to see
me, I knew who I was under that bun.

As I combed my now very short hair, I cried some more, telling myself
that I did not care if I looked like a school marm with a bun, I will not
cut my hair like this again, and I will never, ever, have bangs again.

I'll toss all the progress out the window and begin again. I only hope
that my experience will help others when they get depressed or in an
off day mood to stop, think about it and think some more. This morning
I woke up as I often have, after a nightmare that I cut my hair, grabbing
it, hoping to have a sigh of relief, that it was only a dream. But it wasn't.

My hair really is gone.
I'll likely be close to 50 years old when it is truly back again. I figure it will
take a minimum of six years to get a good start.

Click HERE to join me again on Part Two.

Update as of 03-06-07. I have a much better attitude. It will grow.
It will take time. But it's going to be alright again.