Turns out that bravery isn’t really getting a pixie cut. I was scared, I loved having long hair and despite talking about getting a pixie for years and years, a small little something always held me back.
I was worried about being thought of as less feminine.
But, once the weddings were out of the way and the award ceremony was done I figured it was a good time. I was reading The Four Hour Work Week, the segment about risk vs fear, and realised that the fear (of being less feminine) as much greater than the risk (because hair grows back and if it was horrid I only had to wait it out. Any results would be temporary) and so booked in with appointment for the next day, and just… did it.
I love it. I feel like someone else, a more confident do-what-I-want type someone else.
The hardest part was showing Zee. He’d made a fuss about how much he *loved* my long hair. Truth: that made me want to cut my hair off even more – I adore Zee, but I hate the idea of being that girl who does what her guy wants. And I was worried that he would hate it, and therefore like me less? It was weird (completely unsubstantiated) fear. I didn’t send him any photos once it was done, and when he did see it, there was much disappointment on his part (he keeps saying he was half asleep… but even if he was, excitement and pleasure was the opposite of what came out of his mouth). Still, because I loved it so much, his disappointment was more of a twinge than an urgent drop-everything problem.
He’s gotten used to it now, I think. Everyone else loves it (I went to a girls evening the other night, and there was much squealing involved) and I get loads of compliments.
So, in terms of being brave? I’m not sure this is bravery. I think it’s easy to hype up fear, especially when it’s hard to define why exactly. It was big thing in my head, but truth? Not such a huge thing. It’s just a hair cut.
Still, #44 – done!