the first cut is the deepest

in eighth grade i got this really terrible haircut. i brought in a picture of a model, cut out from a delia's magazine. her hair was short, she was so cute. she was a freakin' model and for some reason i thought i'd walk out of the salon looking just like her. (i was 14 and stupid.) instead, i walked out looking like a boy with a reverse mullet. longer in front than in back. but overall, really really short. and i hated it. i cried. and to make matters worse, i had to walk home. walked home crying hoping no one would see me or mistake me for a boy. to make things triply worse...we had family pictures a few weeks later. and that picture was hung above the piano in our living room for at least the next 10 years. it would probably still be there had my parents not divorced and my mom had not taken down any picture with my dad in it. thank goodness for divorce.

funny story. a couple of years ago my mom found this picture again and asked my sisters and me if any of us wanted it. my answer: HELL NO.

i hadn't cut my hair super short since then. my hair has always been pretty short. at least for as long as i've made my own decisions about my hair (even if they were bad ones.) i've tried growing out my hair a couple of times, but i inevitably end up getting sick of it and chopping it. and when i do, i feel more like myself. short hair feels like me. it just fits.

(holy long post about hair.)

i've been wanting a pixie-ish cut for years (longer than i debated about any of my tattoos). but of course i was nervous, afraid my face wasn't pretty or thin enough for a mega short cut. afraid of repeating the incident from 1999. but after some encouragement/pressure from my bff H and S telling me to get out of the house and not come back until i chopped my hair because he was sick of hearing me talk about it, i did it. i called a place i'd been once before and they had an opening in ten minutes with a girl named jessy. i looked her up on the website. she had a pixie cut herself, tattoos, and not one, but three nose rings. THREE nose rings. i knew she was my girl. so i went and she cut.

i'm not unhappy. i'd give it a 5. with a little headband or barrette, maybe a 6. but i'm glad to have finally done it. to be young and brave and careless. and to have time for it to grow out before any family pictures.