Ten inches off, and I feel like a new person. I had grown tired of my hair as it took away time I could spend on other things. Just drying it took forever. I didn’t have the same luxury of time as I did before. I’d also forgotten why I started growing my hair long, and I was reminded recently. I’m the kind of person to just get a haircut on a whim. Never scheduled in advanced. In the past year and a half of growing my hair out, I remembered why I was doing this. It wasn’t for me, but for someone else. After finding out that the Canadian Cancer Society had stopped accepting hair donations, I sought to find other places that would. And once I did, I booked a hair appointment.
My hair stylist divided my hair into four sections, tied them up separately, while measuring three, four, five times, of at least ten inches of hair before taking her pair scissors and cutting just above where she tied each one. There they went, into a bag I’d soon bring home with me to mail out.
While I’m still getting the hang of styling this shorter bob, I’ve noticed that that time I spend on my hair has definitely cut in half. I bought barrettes, and finding more creative ways to style it.