I needed a change, something pretty dramatic. I’ve been a hair-rut for years (if you discount this major haircut almost exactly two years ago. Maybe this is just a seasonal feeling I get?) and this time wanted it all chopped off. When the hairdresser grabbed the first handful of hair she said, “Are you ready?” and I shut my eyes and said, “Yes. Do it” even though I felt slightly ill.
And what do the family think? They are – at best – nonplussed, I’m afraid. Plus, I’ve discovered people have strongly held opinions about short hair on women that I never realised before. It disappoints me. Disappoints me, and hurts my feelings a little, really. But I’ll get over it. I’m already loving not worrying about tying my hair back to get in the shower or the swimming pool. Or rolling over in bed quickly and getting it stuck underneath me on the pillow.
This is the picture I tweeted on Saturday afternoon.
This was taken this morning.
But you know what? I like it. That’s all that matters.
