I've been putting off writing this post.
I think it's because I don't have anything profound to say. I'm sitting here thinking, and still I can't think of a thing to tell you. Really. The chick who can talk for two hours without skipping a beat has nothing to say.
No life lessons. No profound insights. No earth shattering discoveries.
The cut and style are fantastic. The look is easy, versatile, and it's red. I love all those things. I'd prepared myself to feel vulnerable and freaked out this time, but, I'm good. I'm not scared of the styles anymore. Any of them.
Maybe it's because I'm doing it. The anticipation of trying all the hairstyles is over, and fear is no longer a formidable obstacle. Short hair isn't a spooky whisper in a dark and empty house.
My neck isn't even that cold. Plus I have scarves. And one by one, my flimsy reasons for never trying short hairstyles fall to the ground with every snip of Rachel's scissors. Maybe it's because I'm finally allowing myself to have an experience I should have allowed my whole life.
Or maybe it's because I know that no matter what these styles look like on me, they are not ME.
I'm me. And I'm awesome.
