If you don’t know me personally or if you’ve recently met me, then you might not know that i’ve had long hair my entire life until one day I grabbed a pair of scissors, some pony tails and chopped it off. Yeah who cares right? Well this blog post is not just about my hair. I wanted to share with you the meaning behind it all. My journey of detachment (i’m just at the beggining).
This picture was taken December 2017. A couple weeks before I broke up with my long hair.
My relationship with my hair: I always had long hair, people said it made me Me. I cared. It served also as a cover up I could use to cover up some of my physical imperfections or at least draw attention away from them. If I was ever complimented aesthetically it was probably on my hair. So why would I give up the one thing that brought me confidence? I know it may sound dumb and almost petty but its the truth. I was holding on to it like a toxic relationship driven by fear.
When my grandma passed away from cancer a couple years I go, I desperately felt the need to chop off my hair in honnor of her and donate it to someone who needed it more than I did. I grabbed a pair of scissors that morning I received the news. I went to my bathroom. Looked at the mirror. I couldn’t do it. I let fear and attachment win.
This last year I’ve been learning a lot about fear and how it is our choice if we allow it to take over our lives or not. I’ve began to understand how limiting it is. I’ve become inspired to let go of material attachments and really dove deep in the idea of doing the things I fear most. Its been such an empowering journey.
On the first week of January I grabbed a pair of scissors , some pony tails, and….
Just like that I cut off 8+ inches and donated it to a Cancer program to be made into a wig for a young child with cancer.
It was an incredibly freeing experience. I didn’t shave my head or do something people would consider ‘crazy’ but its the little pushes and steps that count right?
Little by little i’ve been challenging myself to let go. Of thoughts, emotions, material possessions, the unknown… The more I let go, the more I feel fuller. Fuller of life, of meaning.
I hope this bad romantic love story with my hair serves as a small light of inspiration to anyone that feels on the edge. If you really want to do something but you feel incapable or fear the outcome.
It’s ok. I understand. But I also know that you are capable and that when you do whatever it is you want to do but are afraid of doing , its going to feel soooo good.
P.S. If you are thinking about donating your hair, its a beautiful thing to do and I support you 100%. Its just hair right? But to some going through a hard time, it could mean so much more. Do I ever wish I still had my long hair? At times I do miss it, but right away I think of why I did it, and theres no feeling that can replace that.
Learning & Growing,