If you know me, then you know that I’m a cry baby. About everything. I mean, seriously. No need in trying to tell me different, because I know the truth. My mom is sensitive, my dad is sensitive, my mom’s parents are sensitive. I was doomed to be sensitive. And I am.
Saying that, I didn’t cry when I had over nine inches of my hair cut off. And I didn’t cry the next day. Or the next.
And then there was today. I can still say that I haven’t cried. But my eyes not watering at all was true til about and hour and a half ago. It seems so silly to be upset over hair, but I can’t help it. Naturally, I told my mom about how I was upset about my hair and didn’t really like it at the moment. Then my mom reminds me about what good I did for someone else (I donated the hair to Pantene’s Beautiful Lengths for women with cancer). However, even though she was trying to make me feel better, it only made me feel worse. I thought about how there are some people without any hair due to chemotherapy treatments, who I use to be, by the way, and then I realized how selfish I was being. That’s why I did this in the first place, so why am I getting upset about something as small as my hair cut? Perspective.