I got a haircut last week. Normally I wouldn’t mention it except, naturally, it didn’t go according to plan. 


It all goes back to the fact that my normal hairdresser moved. It really was rude of the Army to relocate the husband of the only hairdresser I’ve ever loved. This tragic move meant Mary cut my hair. She did a great job washing my hair with caviar shampoo but things started to get a little stressful when she brought out the scissors. Every time I’ve prepared for a haircut over the last twelve years I’ve debated doing something drastic. In the end I always fall back on my trim the ends/lots of layers/out the door I go approach. I originally told Mary I only wanted a trim but I started second guessing myself after noticing how good her short hair looked. Error number one. My hair would never look as good as hers.



I mentioned that to her which, I NOW KNOW, was my second error. She said she could trim a little more then see how we liked it. After all, it’s only hair. Hair grows back. I should have known better than to go down that slippery slope. Then she said that since this was no longer a “trim”, I had enough hair I could donate. I said that was fine, as long as my length stayed around the middle of my back (at this point it was near my waist). Three minutes later she held a ponytail of my hair that was no longer attached to my head in front of my face and snip, snip, snip my hair was AT MY SHOULDERS. I now present a question to you, good people of the internet. HOW COULD THERE HAVE BEEN ANY CONFUSION AS TO WHERE THE MIDDLE OF MY BACK WAS? 


I almost cried. 


Mary kept cutting away, telling me how good it looked and how she was so glad I decided to try it. Have I mentioned how emotional I was? I didn’t want to tell her I wasn’t a fan because what could she have done about it? Pick my hair up off the floor and glue it back on? Make a wig for me out of the hair I just donated to cancer patients? I barely made it to the car before sending Christopher this desperate message:

The first time I put my hair in a ponytail all I could think was I haven’t had a ponytail that short since I was 5. To sum it up in three words- I FEEL BALD. I don’t know how to work with the small amount of hair I have. Mary said my curls would be better than ever but I have yet to see that promised land. Not to mention that it looks like I got a Mom Cut and I absolutely didn’t want that. People keep telling me it looks good (or that I need to relax because it’s just hair but I was VERY ATTACHED to my hair) but I don’t know. That’s why I’m currently in search of a hair loss support group. 

Please know that it makes me feel incredibly awkward to post this picture of myself. I’m so bad at talking selfies (or as they were called back in the day, self portraits) that it took me 8 tries to get this. Also. I may be smiling on the outside but I was crying on the inside.