I doubt most people close to me will forget when I apparently randomly cut my long thick hair off and swapped if for a short pixie. I said I had always wondered what short hair would be like and that Australia would be too hot for long hair. I appeared to be spontaneous and full of life. When I really cut it to feel like I could control something.
That week I was about to move home for a few weeks before moving abroad. I had realized for perhaps the first time my family would never be the same, my father wouldn't chose to come back. And then my cousin passed away. My world was crashing down and I couldn't control a single thing. So I cut it all off. And as things got better I started to grow it out. Until I was overseas visiting a friend and was confronted with another difficult issue I felt I couldn't handle. So I walked I to a place where no one spoke my language and pointed to a picture and let it come off again.
It's taken a year and a half. And it's only a couple inches now away from its longest. And as much as I feel like so much is out of control I don't feel so desperate. I feel strong enough to face change without trying to be drastic. Without forcing my hand to grasp control of anything.
It may not be long for forever but I want the next cut to be for something beyond a desperate plea for control. So for now it shall just remain long and whipping back and forth.
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