Locks of Love

I got my hair cut today. I shouldn’t say cut — more like chopped off. Nearly a foot of hair is gone. I had no idea my hair was so long. I got it mostly because I was getting really hot. I couldn’t even go without sweating while the fan was on. The other reason is, though, that my mouth went faster than my brain today. Story of my life, I suppose.

At first, the hair stylist said I couldn’t donate it to Locks of Love because it was colored. Then I found out I might be able to, as long as I didn’t put bleach in my hair. As long as the color I used didn’t have bleach in it, I’ll be able to donate it.

I may miss my long hair from time to time (I run my fingers through my hair and the end comes sooner than it should!), but if I can donate it, I’ll be happy to be making a difference. I’m already making a difference in the life of a special needs child that I know, so why not make a difference in the life of someone I don’t know? There’s someone out there that will appreciate that hair. I know there is.

Even if I ever end up regretting this haircut, I know my hair will grow back. And when it does, I never have to get it cut this short again if I don’t want to. But who knows? Maybe I’ll end up liking it and decide to keep it. Everyone has their own personal style, and at age 19, I’m just still trying to find mine.

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