An Inch and a Mile

I go through four stages with my hair.

• First, it's short and cute and I love it. I style it and I feel put together and awesome.
• Then, I get tired. It's too short to braid and put in a bun and I hate having to pin the little bits that aren't long enough to make it in a ponytail. I can't keep up the styling and I decide to grow it out. 
• After a bit of time, it starts to grow out and I can do things with it again. Buns that I think look like chignons, but probably not. Braids that fray by the end of the day. Messy ponytails when I'm sweaty. 
• But with a little more time, it's fairly long and it starts to get in the way. It gets to be heavy with the length and all illusions of volume disappears. It's way too long to try to style and I can only do one braid, two buns, and two ponytails, so I start to feel boring. But I tough it out for a few months more because it's almost long enough to donate and repeat the whole process. 

And that's what has happened in the past and it's happened again. I've been actively tolerating my hair since March. It's been too long. Long to the point that I would end up laying on it when I slept and waking myself up when I tried to move and failed. I really thought I could make it through the entire summer because it's much easier to put hair up when it's longer, for me, but I couldn't make it.

Ten inches gone and donated to Locks of Love.

I'm still really feeling the short hair. I'm trying to be better at taking the time to deal with it, but we'll see how long that lasts.

It took 40 months to grow that ten inches of hair. I don't know if I'll be able to pull that off again, but I'm glad that I was able to for the second time.