Cutting out the stress

Shortly after my “episode,” I cut my hair. Like, the same day. I had been unraveling my locs while i was in the hospital, since I was supposed to have my hair done that afternoon anyway. My hairdresser came over to my house and cut what was left of my locs off and dyed my hair back to my “summer color,” Honey Blonde.

I was feeling bored with my locs. Also, the new style was just too much to maintain in order to have it looking the way it was supposed to. I knew I didn’t have the funds or time to keep up with locs anymore, so I cut them. My husband cut his too–he was actually planning to cut his, but I beat him to it. So now we’re two short haired people.

I like my short hair most days. I’ve never had hair this short…like teeny weeny afro short. I went from a perm, to a weave, to a Victoria Beckham short cut, to micro braids, to a huge ‘fro for a day, to locs. I hadn’t seen my own natural hair since 8th grade. Now I’m re-learning its textures. The big, straight-ish, poof I had in fifth grade is really a bunch of tight curls. I’m still trying to figure out which products work best, but I like being able to jump in the shower, wash my hair, and go. I’m sure as it gets longer the routine may be a little more challenging, but I’m up for it. I’m hoping that it will eventually look like this:

But we’ll see.


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