I did it. I cut it all off.
Not in a spontaneous, heat-of-the-moment kind of way. This decision came slowly, like mist rolling in over weeks of wondering, scrolling through Pinterest boards filled with confident bobs and sharp jawlines, imagining myself lighter, freer, braver. I had always hidden behind my hair—long, thick, and wavy, like a curtain I could pull around me when I needed to disappear. And then one day, I didn’t want to disappear anymore.
The scissors closed. The weight fell. I felt it on my shoulders first—the absence. Then in my chest—the exhilaration.
The good? There’s a rush that comes from seeing yourself anew in the mirror. A sudden sharpness to your silhouette, a sense of intention. Strangers complimented me. Friends said it made my eyes pop. Mornings felt simpler… in theory.
But here’s the real talk.
If you have a lot of hair, and it’s wavy, short doesn’t always mean easy. Styling became a whole new game—one with rules I didn’t yet know. My waves didn’t quite fall the way I imagined. Some days I looked effortlessly cool. Other days? Mushroom. Or triangle. Or “what happened?”
And let’s not even talk about humidity.
Short hair requires confidence. It puts your face on full display. There’s nowhere to hide. And maybe that’s the beauty of it. Maybe that’s the terrifying part too.
I loved the feeling of walking lighter, of shedding old versions of myself. But I also missed braids. I missed buns. I missed feeling the weight of my hair swaying behind me like a whisper of who I used to be.
So now I’m at a crossroads.
Do I keep it short and learn to love the new language of waves and volume and tousled texture? Or do I let it grow again, return to the safety of softness and length?
What would you do? Would you be bold enough to cut your hair off, to let go of what you’ve always known?
And most importantly—what do you think I’ll do next?