Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I started growing my hair long before our wedding in 2009 and then just let it keep growing. I was intending on donating it once it had enough length to still be long after cutting it. My biggest, main influence for keeping my long locks was for Dustin's grandpa Al. He adores long hair and always plays with with my hair when he sees me. He is the closest I have had to my very own grandpa since I was very, very young and I adore him dearly.

My hair and I hit a rough patch in our love-hate relationship last summer and I was ready to cut it then. To the grace of the hair gods, I met a new hair stylist who has been amazing at figuring out what kinds of coloring I like. She gave me bright blonde peek-a-boos that I fell in love with and immediately decided I loved my hair, yet again, for another long duration.

Earlier this month the straw broke the camel's back when I was constantly finding myself sitting on my hair and getting it caught in every single inanimate object I came across. It was too much for my patience to bear. I was ready to donate it and get it off my back. To my delayed dismay, I couldn't donate it. So dumb of me to not investigate donation programs any further than what length the donated hair should be! My hair has been colored, re-colored and colored again so many times over the life of my relationship with my hair. There was no way I could guarantee that it hadn't been completely bleached or risk it getting damaged while being processed for a wig. So, I said "good-bye dear hair" and cut over 8 inches off.

Good-bye dear hair! We will meet again someday!

Dustin's Grandpa and Grandma have been in Arizona snow-birding for the winter and no one told them about my decision. Three days after I cut my hair, Grandma mailed me the following news article in the mail. I swear she has a tenth sense and knows me better than I think she does!

"Sarah - Please don't feel pressured to NOT cut - do what you'd like to do and spring is here! Go for it"!

I am liking having shoulder length hair again! It doesn't feel like a stranger behind me tickling my elbows when I am running on the treadmill -- nor do I have to jerk it out of my coat sleeves -- or pick up endless strands of hair from the floor. I could get used to this for a long time. Now, what will Grandpa Al say??