Cut it off

Depression and anxiety have absolutely transformed me.

I am a completely different person than I used to be.

Every time I looked in the mirror, and saw that girl with the same hair and the same clothes and the same makeup, the discrepancy made me lurch in anguish. Why can't I be her? I asked myself. Why can't I will myself out of this fog and move through time? The girl in the mirror was happy and uncomplicated. She was ignorant and complacent. Life, for her, was easy.

But I'm not her anymore. And pretending to be her was going to kill me.

I have longed for short hair for years and years. Sierra, Whitney, Erin, Monica, Christine. These women came before me and courageously shed their security blankets. And how I longed to be in their shoes. I photoshopped myself with short hair, I watched youtube testimonials, I read articles on the pros and the cons.

Turns out what it took was having absolutely nothing to lose.

What did people see when they looked at my perfectly styled loose-curls, my expensive ballayage treatments? What message was I sending the world? What message was I sending my daughter about women when I stood in front of the mirror for hours with a blowdryer and a flat iron? What message was I sending my sons?

The truth is that I am complicated. I am a strong advocate for human rights, including women's and the LGBTQ* community. I am an advocate for animal rights, environmental protection, and being kind over being right. I am bisexual. I'm a struggling vegan. I have severe depression, anxiety, and depersonalization/derealization disorder. I believe in science. I am an artist. I am a kickass mother.

And I am all out of fucks to give about my hair.