About a week ago, I rid myself of the mane that I’d acquired during 1/2 of my recovery journey thus far (about 2 years).
I had my hair cut into the Olivia famous pixie (famous only to insinuate, massively repetetive).
It was sad to see the golden tips capping my strands go, as these were the result of a trip that my mom & I took to Hawaii, which I remember fondly. Golden tips finished the brown (my natural hair color, sans the sun’s influence), which symbolized the massive amount of re-learning work that I’ve accomplished recently.
So, I came to accept that, in order to move forward and embrace opportunities for new adventures (my love, forever), I thought it wisest to (and therefore wanted to) let the evidence of the strides I’d made over the past 2.5 years go.
I was tired of my long locks always blockin* my view anyway! Removing them was simply practicality put into practice.
To make this hair-riddance all the sweeter, I had decided (pre appointment) to donate my cut hair to an individual who wanted locks & weren’t able (due to a medical hardship) to produce their own. This is a wonderful example of 1 person’s trash, being another person’s treasure.
When I told my hairstylist of my donation desire, he recommended an organization, which called to me more than any I’d heard of previously, that offers hair to children who are suffering from cancer.
Therefore, my 13” of strong (never blow-dried or died) hair, was given to serve someone who desired it. I simultaneously lightened my load, opened my visual perspective and offered my discarded locks to a young person, who’s confidence they would bolster.
Success!