Chop.Chop!

My hair I went in with mid-back length.

I’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, talking myself in and out of it. There I sat in the chair explaining to the stylist that my hair was so thick it was taking too much product to maintain and that I needed a lower maintenance cut that wasn’t real short. I told her I liked being able to put it back but that’s all I was doing because due to the length and the thickness it was taking a 1/3 bottle of product to tame it. I told her I tossed my straightener and I didn’t want to use that intense of heat on my hair just a diffuser. Next, three words came across my lips as I explained it all to her “new mom” and “donate.”

Why do those things matter?

Because from that point on the dynamic of the hair cut changed. Read: the stylist threw everything out the window that I said before and went on a whim to do whatever she wanted. My hair was immediately in a braid and chopped. I assumed it was for the donation & she took the minimum she needed since there was zero discussion about anything. My hair was gone. She then told me she was giving me a short a-line cut. And by short you should know she used a razor the make sure the back of my hair shaped right. Short a-line.

There was nothing more I could do. I just took a deep breath and kept repeating in my head I was doing a good thing, someone else could use my hair that needed it. I knew my husband would hate it which made the stylist chuckle oddly enough, I didn’t find it funny – in fact, I didn’t like that at all. So I continue to repeat in my head I was doing a good thing, someone else could use my hair that needed it.

She proceed to style it opposite (read: blow dried it, then straightened it. Remember I said I told her I just wanted to diffuse it) of what I requested. I said, “I said I just want to diffuse it, and not use this kind of heat on my hair and she explained she was styling it “so my husband might like it.” It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t & frankly the style wasn’t going to make him like it – not the way she did it anyways. She flipped the right side under and flipped the left side out, it was wacky folks. Ryan about passed out when he saw it, and I rushed home, washed it, put product in my hair and diffused it. It was better, I felt better in it.

I embraced it. Snapped a photo threw it on IG and owned it ….for a little while. I just kept remembering it was what I needed to do to donate it. Then I learned she took 5-6″ more than she needed. My embracing of it turned to frustration and feeling taken advantage of.

I cried.

Then after I was done crying I decided I was going to make for absolute certain my hair go to a good cause – so I got my hair back from the salon, where the stylist laughed again when she asked if my husband hated it and I replied “yes.” but that isn’t the point.

Once I had my donation hair, I researched so many organizations. It was going to go to an awesome cause it I couldn’t have it on my head. Then I found it – Children with Hair Loss, a charity that offers free wigs to children. Free. No sliding scale, no selling the hair for profits like several others do.

So, I did it.

I sent it in and embraced this new hair – because it will grow back, and some sweet kiddo will get to beam with excitement that she gets some awesome hair and that is totally worth me being frustrated with mine and having to put hair product in it every single day.

That’s completely and totally worth it.