For as long as I can remember, my hair has played a huge role in my identity.
Not because it was fantastic or pin-worthy. And not because it was horrible.
But because my hair told a story–my story.
A story, that for a long time, I wasn’t ready to share.
Then one day I felt vulnerable.
The good kind of vulnerable.
The kind of vulnerable that gives you courage to tell your story if it might, even in some small way, help someone else along in their journey.
So I swallowed my nerves, I typed it out and published my secret for anyone to read.
Over the years, I told you about my hair pulling.
My extensions–that I’ve had in religiously for the last 7 years.
My thinning patches.
My tips for covering bald spots.
My obstacles and frustrations…
The love and support I received from so many of you was overwhelming.
The love and support you showed EACH OTHER melted my heart and gave me strength.
But most importantly, you reminded me that I wasn’t alone–WE aren’t alone.
We all have something–something we don’t want the world to use to define us.
Some weakness we hope to turn into a strength.
Something we want to be brave enough to share with the world,
and be loved in return–regardless.
Thank you for making me feel loved–regardless.
Lately, I feel like my hair has been weighing me down.
Figuratively and literally.
It has felt tiresome. Like a burden.
I’ve lacked the motivation to style it.
My hair extensions started to feel like a constant reminder of my weaknesses.
And with the thinning areas on top feeling “extra” thin lately, I felt defeated every time I pulled out the blow dryer.
Also, have I mentioned that I’m turning 30 in a month?
Yeah, maybe that has a little something to do with it too 😉
I needed a fresh start.
So again, I swallowed my nerves. And called my dear friend Brittney.
Me: So are you ready to chop off all my hair? And no more extensions.
Brittney: Bring it on.
And so we did.
I LOVE long hair.
So I can’t exactly explain why I feel like a new person with my shorter locks–a person with more energy. A person not being held back. A person with the will power to resist the urge to pull…And you know what?…I’m not going to spend too much time trying to figure it out–I’m just going to embrace it.
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