I planned to donate my hair in December, but I had a bad hair day today.
And this is what happened.
(Please excuse the photography. Ryan was in class, so I had to take these on my own).
I had an appointment today for a trim, but my hair woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, so at lunch, I frantically called my hair dresser.
"Do you think you have time to do more than a trim today? I'm really getting tired of my hair and I think it's long enough to donate now..."
"Umm...yeah we could probably cut enough to have 8 inches plus the 1/2 inch extra to get it shaped. I'm just preparing you for that, so...well...you don't cry."
"I won't cry."
"Okay, good, cuz I would be crying with you."
I didn't cry...My neck feels a little naked, but I haven't cried.
I have no reason to cry. If I had cancer and lost my hair to chemo, I would deserve to cry, but I have my health, and now someone else can have my hair. Someone who needs it more than me. Someone who needs it to feel a little more like herself...before cancer.
That is worth every inch.