I am going to put this down in black and white: I AM GOING TO GROW OUT MY HAIR.
See, for the past 4.5 years, I’ve resisted growing my hair out. I was able to patiently get my follicles to be all nice and long and Hagrid-like back in my undergraduate days because it meant I got to save money on haircuts. Also, I wasn’t that vain back in those days and didn’t care about tying up my scraggly ends and looking like a hobo.
And then I got married and decided that long hair was a drag. I cut all that weight off and since then, I haven’t been able to grow it past my shoulders. Every time I walk into the salon, convinced that I am just going in for a trim, I walk out with hair that’s chopped off in a major way. I cannot, just CANNOT say no to those sassy short cuts.
The irony is, I’d always look at the glossy pictures in the magazines and fall in love with those gorgeous girls with long, wavy locks. And I’d think, I want that. And then the next time I see my hairstylist, everything gets snipped off.
Not this time. I solemnly state that I will have longish hair come Christmas.