Sometimes, the craziest thing you can do is actually do what you wish, the smallest things.
That is how I got fed up of waiting of having enough willpower, money and encouragement to find a new hairdresser who would deal with my hair.
So I cut it. Chopped it, more like. But it’s ok. honest!
I am nearly 50, I can afford to hear once again the same old litany of “oh no!” and “oh my god you’re always doing this” and “nooooo” or what have you.
It’s done, I feel lighter, of course, because you may not know this, but my hair was very long ad very thick. Ok, here is a picture of the other day:
Don’t get distracted by the gorgeous puppy. (Her name is Nikita by the way, and yes she is adorable)
Look at my blooming hair!
I am a wild woman, I am, I always was, I always tried to adjust, fit in, look better, dress better, be a little more elegant.
It doesn’t work, it just doesn’t work.
And yes I love my hair long, but it’s loads of hair and it’s heavy and it gets dry and I get regularly fed up with it.
So I cut it!
My husband doesn’t know yet. I curled it up in a bun on the top of my head like it was this morning, so he doesn’t know yet.
If you know about me you know I have done a lot of wild things in my life. If you don’t, trust me, I did. You’ll be able to read most of them in my second book! A That is of course if I have the courage to publish it under my own name. Otherwise you’ll have to settle for my first novel: it is still me, in a way.
And yet, the wildest thing to do, for me, is always actually act according to my own heart, and bear the consequent disappointment and confusion in others.
I am preparing for that stepping stone: after 50, I will no longer be anything but who I am, even if who I am changes rapidly, enough of trying to please. I am walking on the wild side, of me.