Change

I cut my hair today.

For as long as I can remember my hair has cascaded down to my waist,

A waterfall of curls.

**

Over the years,

As time moved on and things changed, so did the color of my hair.

Brown one day

Black the next

Purple for a short time

And for as long as I can remember now my hair has been a crown of fire atop my head dyed the color red.

Though one thing stayed the same,

I never cut it.

A trim here and there to keep it healthy.

**

For some reason, my hair had become the focal point in my mind of my beauty over the years.

Perhaps it’s because it’s the only thing I find “naturally beautiful”

It just grew from my body, my favorite part of myself.

**

As time went on and I grew sick, it became all too apparent that my hair was suffering as well.

Of course it was, my body is failing itself, why would my hair be spared?

I noticed the thinning first, now my hair is by no means thin by anyone else’s definition but I had noticed the change.

It was no longer thick and soft and smooth like before.

***

It took us a year to get to this point.

I fought the inevitable for a year,

Today I cut my hair.

I cried when I could finally run a brush through it,

Tears of joy mixed with grief and sadness.

I could brush my own hair, after the relief finally subsided my tears quickly turned to grief.

What a stupid thing to write, grieving over hair but it’s so much more than that.

I cried over my own lack of choices in my life,

I mourned the person I was in years past before everything fell apart.

I mourned the person I always thought I’d be with my curls of scarlet running down my back.

I cried because Life is unfair, and she doesn’t care if you’re a good person.

**

I stare in the large mirror on the vanity my parents had so lovingly put together for me last Christmas.

I no longer recognize the girl in the mirror.

She’s tired, the purple that had settled under her eyes months ago has become at home on her skin.

Her complexion pale and dull.

Her hair no longer flowed to her waist like a mane of fire.

Instead, it now rested just over her heart.

**

As I stare at what I know to be my own reflection, my mind wonders about my future. I can’t help but to think of who I will become and for a fleeting second I feel hope.

The girl I had always wanted to be and was, was not made for the trials I face today but as I stare at the girl in the mirror her hair resting just over her heart I know she was made for this.