It was super long, and not very pretty because it's super thin, fine, and damaged from so many colorings. The platinum blonde was seeping through May's dye job pretty horrendously, giving most of my hair a very yellow tinge. Also, it was a NIGHTMARE to brush through after washing it. Like, it would take me literally an hour to brush through the tangles. I hated this hair.
So I got 6 inches chopped off, and had a few subtle layers added. I was honestly hoping for one of those big sweeping bangs, but my hair refused to cooperate with that.
It felt nice, and was easier to comb through. And I started to feel pretty again. Selfies began to happen again, just because.
But it still didn't feel like "me". I really feel that once someone finds their signature look, they become more complete. Any other looks that person has in the future will forever be measured against that signature look that they loved and felt comfortable with.
For me, that look is short hair. I miss my short hair so much.
I may be a few pounds *cough*100*cough* heavier now, but I still have the same face shape, even if it is a bit rounder with a less defined jaw line.
I have never felt more like myself than the year that I had that haircut. It was just so... ME.
I felt unstoppable with that hair.
I started to grow it out in January 2012 because I couldn't afford the upkeep anymore (only because I insisted on only going to my favorite salon, which always cost me at least $60/month to keep it that short length).
By the time Mom died in June 2012, my hair looked like this:
Then, I stopped caring about everything when Mom died (less than a month after the above pic was taken), especially about taking care of myself. This included my hair.
I cared a bit here and there though, even trying to new things like this:
But usually, like 99/100 days, I looked like this:
...because I just didn't care. And also because I wasn't... myself. I have been a grieving version of my former self.
I know that I will never get back to the life that I had and the self that I was before Mom died. I accept that.
But things are slowly but surely getting better for me. And I'm ready to get back to being me.
One step towards that is getting help with my binge eating. Another step is making sure that I take care of myself, from the inside out.
This includes all sorts of things, including healthy eating and exercise.
But also personal hygiene. I don't know if any of you are familiar with depression and grief, but one of the grosser side effects of it is that personal hygiene can take a nosedive. That has been the case for me.
I still shower and stuff, but I don't wash my face at night, or brush my teeth every morning, or put on face cream or sunblock, or wear makeup/do my hair regularly.
I'm pretty okay with leaving regular makeup behind me, but the rest of it needs to make a comeback.
Another way that I'm working on cleaning up my act: Cleaning the house.
I've never been the world's greatest housekeeper, but I really have let things go since Mom died. My grief vision didn't even really notice it. But I notice it now. Stacks of laundry, both clean and dirty, all over my bedroom. Dishes stack in the sink. Bathroom counter filled with junk.
So along with working on my personal hygiene habits, I will be working on my housecleaning habits.
Anyway, back to the main point of this post. My hair.
I got SICK of waiting to be thin again before cutting my hair off. Which, by the way, is something that I wasn't even admitting to myself. But I totally was. I hate my long hair, and want my short hair back, but I feel like I will look grosser and fatter if I get it all chopped off, like somehow long hair hides or balances out my girth.
So I am going shorter in steps again.
Here's the first step:
My beautiful angled bob. I already feel more like myself. I'm getting my signature look back!
It feels great.