on why i cut my hair.

i have always had long hair. and it was always the pride of my aunts. long, thick, brown hair. beautiful.

i cut it in high school once. real short. but then i let it grow. and grow. and grow.

it got to the point where i wouldn't cut it, because it was so nice. and the pride of my aunts and grandmom, was now my pride. in that nasty meaning of pride.
and for no reason at all, because i am not a fussy, do my hair, spend time primping kind of girl. so, my hair lived in a perpetual messy knot on the top of my head. sometimes i went days without brushing it. gross.

and then. in november, while stalking on facebook, i ran into an old friend. and right there, for all of facebook to see, a photo album called "cancer haircuts." this friend had the most beautiful, long, curly black hair. and now, here were pictures of her freshly shaved head.

here i was with this head full of precious locks. tied up in a rat's nest while my friend shaved hers off to prevent the dreaded fall-out.

i decided then to cut it off, donate the pony tail to a wig-making outfit. i had planned to do it when i was in philadelphia, but chickened out like three times. and every week, i made plans to go to the salon, but never actually made it.

i don't know what caused me to go. but i knew it needed to happen. my hair was going to serve a better purpose on someone else's head. my knotty ponytail days are over. so i went. sat in the chair, tied up my pony tail and 45 minutes later was sporting a new do.

this week my 15 inch pony tail will be put in an envelope and mailed in honor of my friend and her courageous fight against cancer. if anyone can beat this, she can.