Locks of Love and Lassitude (A post by Molly)

I have a bit of attention deficit disorder when it comes to my hair. I don’t like to go two days in a row with the same hair style, and once a haircut has been around too long, I don’t hesitate to change it… drastically. So I found myself, last Friday afternoon, in an intimidating, fancy hair salon. “What would you like me to do?” Cedric the stylist asked with a smile. I reached for my mom’s phone from underneath the plastic salon cape. “I want to have the hairstyle in this picture,” I said as I showed him the phone. But that was just a euphemism for “Cut it ALL off.”

This was not the first time I’ve had a drastic haircut. In third grade I wanted to get a haircut. “Why don’t you donate it?” my mom suggested. A few of my friends had done this before. So the day before my school’s picture day, a sweet hair stylist chopped 10 1/2 inches of hair from my head. “I’m never doing this again,” I swore, as my hair barely came past my ear. And then the June before eighth grade, a sweet hair stylist chopped 12 inches off my head. Again I swore against ever donating my hair again. Then a week ago, it was rather hot and my long hair looked especially boring, but this time I came more prepared. I looked at short hair styles online and carefully consulted my sister and mother. I was done with 1970s boy haircuts.

This donation was the first time I wanted to give my hair to a specific person. Earlier this year, my Aunt Kathy was diagnosed with breast cancer. Though my hair probably isn’t enough for a whole wig, I’d like it to contribute to a wig for her, or at least make my hair donation in her honor. I have yet to mail my hair in yet, so Aunt Kathy has first dibs.

Instead of swearing against my hair donations, which was unrealistic to begin with, I have decided to set a hair donation goal for myself. By the end of my life I’d like to donate at least my height in hair. So far I’ve donated 33 inches of my hair; if I’m done growing that means I only have 39 inches to go. So, today marks the beginning of a new crop.

My mother had not remembered that the next day was pictured, so she rushed to the store to get me a cute outfit to compliment my incredible short hair.
In third grade I donated 10 1/2 inches. However, my mother had not remembered that the next day was picture day, so she rushed to the store to get me a cute outfit to compliment my incredibly short hair.
My second crop of hair ready to by mailed in
This is me in eighth grade with my second crop of hair ready to mail.
My final moments with my hair
My final moments with my long hair
My stylist Cedric did a wonderful job
My stylist Cedric did a wonderful job
This is the first time I've had bangs since I was three
This is the first time I’ve had bangs since I was three
My third crop of hair
My third crop of hair
... it was a bit langer than I expected
… it was a bit longer than I expected

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