I don't like change, EXCEPT when it comes to my hair.
As a little girl I had long, blond hair. I loved my hair so much that I would start panicking DAYS before getting trims because I feared my mom would accidentally cut off too much. (She never did, and she continued to cut my hair until I went off to college. I literally didn't sit in a salon chair until I was 18-years-old.)
My first short hair style, when I was about 17, was an accident. I asked my mom to add layers while also trimming off a few inches, and as it turned out, we had very different pictures in our heads of what layers were supposed to look like. So while my hair actually looked really nice when she was finished (I grew to like it and my friends thought it was cute from the get-go), I FREAKED out when I first looked in the mirror. I cried and cried and when I was done crying I raided my closet for hats because I just knew I'd have to cover my head until my hair grew back. After apologizing profusely, my mom stated publicly that she would no longer cut her daughters' hair.
Like I said, I grew to like - even love - my short hair style, and at the risk of sounding a bit cliche, it opened up a whole new world for me. I realized - a little late in the game, I know - that HAIR GROWS OUT. And that hair color CAN BE CHANGED. And so began my love of changing my hair.
We're not talking red mohawks or green perms here, but over the last 14 years I've had almost every length of hair possible, and have lightened and darkened my hair color multiple times. Then nine or so years ago I learned about hair donation and decided I wanted to give that a try. It takes years to grow hair long enough for a donation, so there's quite a bit of commitment required.
I chopped my hair after our wedding,
right after Will was born,
and on my 30th birthday.
You can see from the pictures above that my hair is often a shade of dark blond, however I've gone brunette as well. (I actually loved this color, and plan to revisit it in a year or so.)
And then last week, I took the plunge once again - multiple inches of my hair are in an envelope on my kitchen counter (a little gross, I know), ready to be dropped off at the post office.
I've made four hair donations, and because it takes six donations to make one wig, I can now proudly say that I've now donated more half a wig. And my head is a whole lot lighter!