It’s been a few weeks since I donated two ten-inch ponytails worth of my hair to Locks of Love, an organization that takes donated hair to make wigs for young cancer patients. It was my first step to orientate myself back to Los Angeles when I returned for Thanksgiving, and a necessary measure towards becoming the kind of person I’d like to be.

Unfortunately, not everyone has taken it so well. I mean, it’s hard to say, “Your hair looks terrible,” to someone who has just donated it, so I haven’t heard that from anyone (thank goodness.) I have, however, received several questions about why I did it. And as much as I would like to say that it was out of good will and good will alone, I have to be honest about the matter.

Since I moved out to Houston, it became apparent to me what my long hair did for me. I hid behind it, allowed it to be a self-esteem booster, and it seemed that the longer it grew, the more attention it received. I began to rely on my hair to be one of the reasons people noticed me, and I knew my own vanity in trying to manage the tresses was getting vastly unmanageable. Continue reading