The Secrets of Hair & Flowers

I cut off about 15 inches of hair several months back, trading my long braids for something that grazed my shoulders and didn't take three hours to dry after a shower. They took the hair for a wig, so I consoled myself with the fact that I'd done something good. It took a while not to feel a bit like an amputee, but I'm getting there. I don't know what I'll do with regard to length, but I've decided I'm going to back to strawberry blonde for a while. I've kept my hair darker than it actually is for several years. It's going to be nice to have something a bit brighter for a change. I am hoping the end result will be something along these lines. I feel like an open window in summer these days. Light within and light without. My world is tinged with the hues of hopeful breaking dawns and glorious satisfied sunsets. My hair defined my vision of myself for so many years, the braid across my back with its rhythmical pat reassuring me as I made any forward movement. The pigtails I wore so often laid themselves out like arms across my shoulders when I'd let my hair down at night. My hair reminded me of my own strength. It became a symbol to me of my constancy in even the most tumultuous of circumstances. It served me well and protected me in ways that I still cannot articulate, but I am emerging from myself yet again, like a seed in a garden. It was time to let go of this very tangible tether to so many memories. I felt like it was time to let it work its magic for someone else, so I hope that's what it's doing. And me? I'm going to be a sunflower and see how that suits me.