I realized today that it has been ONE ENTIRE YEAR since I chopped my hair off for the first time.
One year since I asked Chantalisa for affirmation before I had her take out the scissors.
One year since I drove home and my mom was very supportive but also a little shocked (despite her having known beforehand).
One year since I opened the door to let Peter in and he closed his eyes.
One year since my roommate didn’t recognize me.
One year since I made that big change. I don’t think my hair ever defined me before I chopped it, but now, it feels like short hair is a part of me.
I’ll probably grow it out again. Maybe in a year or so. I have big plans for when I have long hair again. But for now, I love my short hair.