Chopped Off

Whether I like it or not, 2016 was a year of changes for me.

I graduated university, moved to a new city and have slowly been discovering life as an independent woman (mostly independent) (kinda) (sorta).

This is the year where I’ve fully felt distance from my family and friends. Friends that are still in Ottawa, or have moved back home. Family members that now have partners, jobs, pets, obligations that they need to see to before anything else.

Some of these changes are personal, and some more outward – some hardly affect me at all. Some I’m very happy about, and some not so much.

And now, I can add one very small change to the list.

This year was pretty big for changing my hair. As I’ve mentioned before, I had platinum blonde hair for two years before dying it brown and chopping it into a long bob back in January. That was a pretty dramatic change, and I actually startled some of my friends at school because they didn’t recognize me.

But that’s how I’ve always been with altering my appearance. Once I get an idea into my head of a new hairstyle, new makeup look or new aspect of my style, I jump into it right away. I get the idea and I think, “Yes, let’s do that right now.” I’m not very good at second thoughts or delayed gratification. Just a few of the many tragic flaws.

When September hit, the idea was to get bangs again. Luckily I had my sister to veto that. “You look like a child with bangs,” is a pretty discouraging statement for someone who’s trying to get a grown up job. *record scratching sound*

The bangs were a no-go, but I held onto the idea that I wanted to change my hair again.

It only took a few unfortunate encounters with scarf-tangled hair to decide to get rid of it.


And that’s what I did. I booked an appointment at The Cabinet (great salon, highly recommend if you’re in Toronto), sat down in the chair and said, “Chop it.”

Now, I don’t think cutting your hair is a particularly brave thing. It can be hard – you can get comfortable having a protective curtain, and it’s certainly admirable to donate your hair, but it does grow back. Hair grows back and you can always try again. Also, wigs.


So I cut my hair, shorter than it’s been for quite a long time. Possibly since I was a child. I cut it and it felt really good. It felt a bit freeing, even though the back of my neck is freezing now. That’s what scarves are for, and I can rock those bad boys with a tangle-free guarantee now.


The only issue is I actually have to style it. Before, I would wash my hair, let it air dry and that’s it. If I do that with this length, it’ll look like a helmet. Now, I’ve got the works: mousse, blow dry, curl and texturize. It’s not a ton of work. In fact, it’s pretty easy, and super satisfying to run my hand up the back of my neck and feel how short my hair is.


When I first got it done, I was worried the hair wouldn’t be cool on me, that I would look too old. I was worried about being unattractive.

Then, of course, I remembered that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.

I love it and it makes me feel good, and that’s all you really need. Who knows how I’ll get it done next, but that’s the thing about changes – they can’t be predicted.

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