I have never been afraid of a haircut. Actually, changing hairstyles became a habit- no more than 6 months in a given style. When D. was young, though, I decided to bite the bullet that is the growing out process and try out a longer style. When it started approaching mid-back, though, the familiar itch for something new returned. Having just seen a classmate of D. (1st grade at the time, I think) donate her long, beautiful locks, I figured that was the perfect way to liven things up and do some good at the same time. Off came the hair, into an envelope and on it's way to Pantene's beautiful lengths program (they make wigs for cancer patients). Fast forward a few years and I found myself right back where I was before...with long hair and a need to lighten things up.
So, yesterday I toodled my way over to see Jeanne (best hairstylist I have ever had) and she ponytailed me up (lots of them to maximize length, since my hair wasn't quite as long as last time and the Pantene program requires 8 inches of hair).
Many snips of the shears later, I have a short new do and a little piece of me is now winging it's way through the US Postal Service, on it's way to becoming a wig for someone going through chemo. I hope it offers them even a tiny bit of comfort.