Stifling

I had a realization yesterday morning. I hate to be stifled. I’m sure most of us feel the same way. Or…maybe not? I really don’t know. Maybe for some, being stifled actually feels comforting?

I had this awe-inspiring realization as I was thinking about haircuts. Yes, haircuts. A few months ago I got my hair cut for the first time in almost three years. I hate it. Yes, it looks “better”—well, let’s just hope all haircuts look better, and you don’t ever come home to a mushroom head staring you in the face (this happened to me once). I digress. The ends aren’t split anymore. It’s what you do to have healthy hair. You trim it. It grows more. Your hair breaks less. This is how it works.

Yes, haircuts they may look nice. Yes, people comment on them—”You’re haircut looks great!” But regardless… I really don’t like those stifling haircuts. I don’t like the sharp edges. I don’t like the fact that my hair fits into this “mold,” and it isn’t doing its own thing anymore. Now that it’s been a few months since I got my last hair cut, my hair is starting to feel normal again. It’s telling me… “Ok. *collective sigh of relief* I’m still subscribing to this mold-thing to some extent, but I’ve branched out just a little bit. Just a wee bit. That feels better.” This hair is a tad longer than that hair. This guy over here, I don’t know what he’s doing at all.

My sense of hating to be stifled even transfers to my hair. Huh. I’m definitely not getting it cut before the wedding. It’s decided.

Love,
Amanda Dawn

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