Can you be fearless and also full of fear?
I stare at myself in the mirror of the hair salon, watching Kristina take scissors to my long hair.
I fear that once she cuts it off, the sinking feeling in my chest won’t fall with it.
It will stay.
This happens every time I come here,
I think to myself as I remember to blink my eyes.
What if it does stay? I make a face at my reflection as
Kristina starts to snip away the dead strands that are
full of heavy memories.
The strands drop to the floor, and they don’t make a sound.
But I feel like they should.
My shoulders ease as she works her way across my back, long pieces of hair leaving me abruptly and
without
hesitation.
Yep. They’re definitely heavy.
Before I know it,
it’s time to get out of the chair. Time to run my fingers through the short strands.
It’s nice to be able to cut off a piece of yourself that is weighing you down, that remembers the things you don’t want it to.
I hope one day I will want to keep my hair long.
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