The big chop

I’ve mentioned before how sensitive I am when it comes to my scalp. My hair has been growing longer and longer, perhaps longer than it’s ever been before. On its best days, it looks tousled and pretty. On its worst (read: average) days, it’s slightly frizzy and unkempt. Invariably, wearing it down means I soon try to pull it back away from my face in a casual, loopy bun. The weight of the bun has increased over time, making it so I have to obsessively redo the bun every few minutes to see if I can minimize the pulling on my scalp.

When I wear my hair up–even with lots of support from pins and so-called “scrunchies,” it starts to yank on my head and I soon must take it down. In May, I was a bridesmaid who had to wear her hair up. There was enough the drama/trauma brought into my life that day just from the bun-making process alone–suffice to to say I can’t create an up-do to save my life. But as the hours ticked on, the bun felt tighter and pulled more and more on my scalp, especially at the crown. The moment I was done with all the photographic obligations, you can bet I yanked all those bobbypins and ponytail holders out and popped a Maxalt. Ow.

It’s August in Georgia. Do any of you know what that means? August. In Georgia. 100 degree heat, very high humidity. I’m not wearing my hair down to save my life, but wearing it up means a Migraine attack.

So what did I go and do today? I chopped it.

Even if I end up not liking how the cut looks, at least I know I love the weightlessness of it!

The end.

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