5 Things I Learned About Myself When I Tried to Grow My Hair Out

I heard this saying once that after a certain age, women shouldn't keep their hair too long. I don't know where it came from, or if it was just made up by the woman who said it. I don't even know what the "certain age" is, but for myself, I started worrying that I was approaching it. If I wanted to have long hair ever again, I thought I needed to do it soon. So, last year, I decided to grow my hair long. That is, until today, when I quit. Here is what I learned about myself along the way:

1.  I am not a very patient person.

When I was young, my hair was often long and sleek, and I loved it. I didn't have to wait for it to grow, it was just there. Then, during the times I had shorter styles, it seemed to grow really fast. This past year, as I was waiting for my mom haircut to grow out, it did not seem to budge…ever. Going in for trims would be pretty disheartening. My stylist, who has the most beautiful long, blonde, flowing locks, would quietly snip off all the hard work I...er, I mean, my hair...had done the previous months. She would encourage me to be patient, because it takes a while to make it past the shoulders. Once that happened, she said my hair would stop flipping up, and it would all be worth it. I would leave her chair feeling defeated. My mom always says, "Patience is a virtue." I don't think I have enough of it. 

2.  I tend to want what I can't have.

When my hair was short, I would look at women with long hair and wish for what they had. I would dream about pony tails and braids and curls and all the styles I could have if my hair was long again. Somehow, my new longer hair seemed like a straight, boring mess. The only time I liked it was if I had time to really dry it, but that took forever, and we all know moms never have forever to do anything. Obviously, pony tails were great for cleaning the house or sitting at the kids' swimming lessons, but even I grew tired of looking at myself with ponies. I shocked myself by shamelessly leaving the house with my hair still wet from the shower! I had never done that in my life, and suddenly, I was doing it all the time for the sake of convenience. Eventually, after I was feeling really discouraged, it seemed everywhere I looked were women sporting my previous hairstyle. They looked cute and fresh, while I just felt frumpy and old. My hair was wet, limp, flat, still barely past my shoulders, and still flipping up in the back. 

3.  I have to be practical.

As summer was coming to a close, I realized I was not going to make it through fall and winter with wet hair and pony tails. I just didn't have what it takes to let this hair grow another year. Let's face it:  even if I did grow it long enough for cute styles and curls, I would never have time to do it! Ever.  Okay, maybe once a month on a weekend. Maybe. Is that worth it? If I chopped it into a cute inverted bob, I'd have a ready-made style every day! With a super quick drying time. Done! 

4.  It's okay to be a quitter. It's only hair.

I love short hair...on everyone. If a high school senior contemplates letting go of her lifetime of long locks before freshman year of college, I call it a rite of passage in becoming a young woman, and I cheer her on! "Go for it, it's only hair!" When a newly independent twenty-something tells her friends she wants to cut her gorgeous, long hair into a trendy style and everyone shrieks, "Noooo," I shout, "Just do it! It's only hair!" When little girls, as small as six or seven, want to try short hair, but moms, dads, and grandparents tell them it's just too pretty to cut, I always say, "Let her cut it!  It's only hair!" 

So, why was I, an independent woman, trying to raise other independent humans, so worried about my own hair and its freakin' length? Was I so afraid of being a quitter that I was going to keep up with this style that made me feel so badly about myself? Did I feel that because I declared I was going to grow out my hair, I needed to keep growing it?    

I was actually much more confident in myself when I did have short hair. This long hair is just too much for me to deal with on top of everything else in our lives. I tried to grow it, and then I realized long hair isn't me anymore. It was me once, but that was a long, long time ago. For me, that "certain age" to stop having long hair is now. I don't see myself becoming more patient or less practical any time soon. I quit my long hair, and it's okay. It's only hair.  

5.  I really stink at selfies.

Once I did finally give up the idea of having long hair, I let the world, or that is, my Facebook friends, know my plan. Mr. G. (remember my favorite orchestra teacher?) suggested a before and after shot. Ha! I told him that's just for teeny boppers and hipsters. I'm too old for selfies. Of course, he shot back with, "I still think of you as a teeny bopper." What a charmer. 

That's when I devised my brilliant plan to blog about all this, in turn laughing at myself. It really has been an ordeal, this whole grow my hair, cut my hair, fiasco. Just ask Trixie and Mark. They've been through it with me the whole time. It merits its own reflection blog. 

In the morning, after the kids were at school, I tried to take some selfies of my freshly dried, longest it's been in many years, hair. You know, for the "before" shot. I went out to the back deck for some pleasing scenery, actually feeling like a total idiot. I do not take selfies. You can totally tell. I was worried the neighbors would see me, posing on the deck like a thirteen-year-old girl, except I was awkwardly holding a giant tablet in front of my face instead of a sleek phone. Thirty shots later, this is what you get. 

Notice, I finally gave up on the wooded backdrop and went inside. 

Also, my hair isn't even that long.  I had at least another year to go to reach the length I really wanted.

 

Sitting down in my stylist's chair tonight was invigorating, not defeating, as it had been so many times the past year. When she asked me if I was ready to keep on growing, I took a deep breath and told her to chop it off! I was ready to be me again. Of course, she still remembered exactly how to cut it into my short style. She asked me if it was alright to take off a full five inches to reach my usual short length, and I enthusiastically told her to take it. She asked if Mark knew I was chopping my hair tonight. I told her that I believed he would want me to have the hair that makes me feel best about myself, and this short style is who I am. She brought me back to life with her scissors. She knew it and I knew it. When I stood up from her chair, we looked at all the pieces of me left on the salon's floor. I sighed for a second, and said, "There it goes. Ah well, it's only hair."

 

After spending too much time reflecting on my hair, I am proudly coming away with some lessons to teach my children. 

• It's okay to be impatient.
• It's okay to long for new things and dream about them, but being practical is also important. 
• Nobody ever told me I wasn't allowed to be a quitter, it was just something I had instilled in myself. It's actually okay to quit!   

Would you tell me about some life lessons you learned while doing something trivial? 

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