“As each strand falls I watch it drift to the ground. My head feels lighter. The hairdresser hands me my ponytail. I refuse to take my hair in my hands. Every inch of that hair was from a moment that has now gone. Thoughts, wishes, hopes, desires, dreams that are no longer. I want a new start. A new head of hair. Snip, snip, snip.” – Joyce Conway in Cecilia Ahern’s “Thanks for the Memories”
People keep asking me what made me get my new look. This is all I have to say to them – I wanted change, I needed change, so I got change. That’s it. I wish I had a more eloquent piece to write about it, but Cecilia Ahern was eloquent enough for me. Even though Joyce Conway was a woman with bigger problems than mine, a woman who had just lost her unborn baby in a traumatic mishap, as compared to my seemingly trivial troubles, and was probably more justified in feeling the way she did, what she felt and thought is exactly what I felt and thought when I decided to do what I did. The book had nothing to do with it, it’s just the way I am, and it’s just what I do. To make an emotional change, I make a physical change. It’s a road I’ve taken before, when I pierced my nose four years ago. It’s not new territory. So yes, Lou and Diaryface may have spent many chai sessions convincing me to chop off all my hair for their own reasons, and I may have spent many hours telling them my reservations about going so drastically short. But the ultimate decision of getting change was taken after the realization that I wanted change, I needed change. That’s it.
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