I thought about growing my hair out. Not a lot, but just a little. Enough to make cute little pigtails or try and curl it again. Enough to see what it was like again and see if it was something that I wanted to do.
Last fall, I had it kind long, almost chin length on the left side and a little shorter on the right. It was cute, but it was also rather boring and safe. I mean, it didn’t start that way. The fresh cut was more my style, with the sides being tight and a bit of an undercut. But it grew out horribly boring.
My hair grows really fast. And I just don’t end up getting my hair cut very often – possibly out of laziness, I will admit. And so in a couple weeks, my fresh cut became blah and in six weeks it started getting mousy. Not the look I wanted.
So I decided that the experiment was over.
I went to my trusted stylist and told her I wanted to do a pixie cut. She asked some questions about length and I gave her some answers. Then I took my glasses off and let her cut (note: I cannot see a thing she’s doing in the mirror with my glasses off).
By the time she was done, there was way more hair on the floor than I’d thought possible.
And way less on my head.
The haircut felt so right.
Often, I need a few days to get used to a haircut; the new way it frames my face or falls over my ears. Not this time. This cut looked perfect right out of the gate. Perfect and comfortable. It was the exact cut I wanted. It makes me happy.