photo credit: Jesse Michener
I took the clippers out again.
No plastic colored guard attached, just the silver metal blade looking like little teeth along the edge.
I don't feel anything like I did the last time.
I feel calm, like this is easy to do.
The $100 cut and color job falls in chunks as I make wide stripes down my head, taking out what is left of my hair.
It's barely hanging on- like I used to be, so I simply set it free.
My head is perfectly shaped, as if it longed to be bald.
I set myself free.
I will no longer be taking handfuls of my hair out of the drain.
I took all the bottles of spray and jars of hair products, so many products, off the shelf.
I gave the wig products prominent space.
I feel myself filling up, not needing hair anymore.
Sure, I'll welcome it back if it decides to return, but this is me now.
When I look at myself in the mirror:
slight spattering of freckles,
I SEE ME.
Maybe for the first time.
Maybe this is a GIFT.