The story of a girl, her hair, and the magic mirror.

Once upon a time, before I my brother’s wedding and my trip across the ocean, I decided to get my hair cut.  By this time I was living in my hometown with my parents and so I scheduled an appointment at the salon my mom’s gone to for years.  I knew it was chancy to cut my hair right before a wedding and right before I trekked across the globe to my new home, but I wasn’t doing anything exciting – just a highlight and trim.  Harmless, right? 

My first mistake was wondering outloud if I should try my hand at the full-bang trend that was hitting Hollywood.  You know the look – full bangs, straight across, very edgy.  I sat in my adjustable chair as my vocal musings turned into a very convincing argument in favor of said-bangs by an unbiased bystander, also known as the owner of the salon.  I listened as she talked about how easy they were to manage and straighten on days you were feeling up to it, and clip back on days when you were feeling a little less-than-edgy.  I hesitated – just for a moment – expressing my concern with doing something drastic just three days before I would stand in front of family and friends at my brother’s wedding, before hundreds of images would be taken of me to be preserved in history, before I would uproot my family and lose my many comforts of home to become emersed in a new culture and community.  I told her I was nervous.  But I thought…it’s just hair.

So she cut.

As she stepped away so I could see myself in the mirror I thought for sure it would be a little different. 

I had no idea. 

It’s just hair.

I’ve had bad haircuts.  I’ve even had REALLY bad dye-jobs (mostly done by myself).  I’ve always handled them with stride – usually because they were my own fault. 

But this time I lost it.  I told her I hated it – nicely.  I walked out and convinced myself it is just hair…hair that will grow back.

Never underestimate a girl and her hair. 

It’s now a month later and I still can’t wear my bangs down.  This actually wouldn’t be a big deal.

Except when you’re just the slightest bit homesick.  And you left everything at home.  And you keep thinking of reasons you don’t feel comfortable in your new home yet.

Then it is a big deal.  Then it’s more than just a story of a girl and her hair.

{Until you meet the full-length "magic" mirror in you flat that inexplicably makes you look 2 sizes smaller.  Then you can forget about your terrible haircut for just a few moments every morning when you mentally commit to yourself that you shall look in no other mirror for the rest of the day.}

The End