I haven’t had my hair cut in almost a year. It was getting really long. Like, ratty long. I needed a cut. We live in Alaska. Plus, I couldn’t afford a cut. Do you know where this is going?
I asked Lee to cut my hair for me. No big deal. Take off four inches. Make it straight. Easy.
I was wrong. He took off at least seven inches. It’s really short. Much shorter than I wanted. Lee declared at the end of the saga that we were never doing that again.
I thought I was being Alaskan. It was brave of me. Now I need to access a different kind of bravery and feel okay with my new short haircut.