Long Hair < Short hair.

Me + Hair = Frustration.

It has been previously discussed on this blog that myself and hair don't exactly sit on the same wavelength; I don't do anything with it, it does as it pleases, it takes hours to tame and I simply don't enjoy the aggravation of having to deal with it.

I had began contemplating the idea of having short hair early last year when I realised I simply didn't have any real purpose to why my hair was so long, so I thought to myself: If I don't do anything with it, why not get rid of it?

For some, it would most certainly be dramatic and most likely an over whelming process, but for me, I felt very eager and almost excited at the thought. 

It was often that many people expressed their love towards my hair because of it's natural thickness and length, so I was aware that some may simply not like my look, but for once: I didn't give a damn.

At the beginning of December, I finally took the plunge: I asked for it to be disposed off and I can say with 100% conviction, it was the best decision I have made. 

I remember walking into the hairdressers with a large smile on my face and whilst my hair was being dyed, I giggled slightly when I began to imagine myself with no hair at all

My effort levels have now fallen to about 30% and I find it much less of a hassle to deal with: wake up, look in the mirror, do nothing with my hair. Brilliant.

To now the only disadvantage is that to keep it at the length it is, I must repeatedly visit the hairdressers for a clean cut, which I think may be a little disconcerting for me, considering my visits are only yearly.

But I'm sure this put out the fact I am in love with my new hair.

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