I never understood the whole "haircuts are a fresh start" thing until I got one and unintentionally felt like a new person. All I wanted was shorter, healthier hair, but I wound up with a stronger, happier me. That hair had been through hell and back, and suddenly it was on the floor of a salon. In a dustpan at a salon. In a trash can at a salon. The hell went along with it.
That hair had been held back as I puked after a night of drinking too much to prove to a man who will never understand me that I am not a loser. That hair had been played with by the boy I thought was straight from my dreams but who ended up cheating on me and convincing me it wasn't cheating and then emotionally abusing me for months. That hair had been tangled by chlorine from the pool at my best friend's birthday party just months before she stopped talking to me, started talking shit about me, made me feel like every problem in the world was my fault, and broke my heart. That hair had been soaked by tears as I cried myself to sleep for days in a row after being made out to be a villain. That hair had been patted by the quote-unquote boy of my dreams as he called me stupid in front of his friends and pointed out the flaws in me that supported my stupidity, taking away the only thing I'd ever been confident of- my mind is a beautiful thing that someone would love someday. That hair had been pressed down by my lacrosse helmet as I stood on the sideline and realized my coach never wanted me and my confidence began to dwindle and I became an angry, bitter girl. That hair had had fingers run through it by a boy who forced me to tell him about my suicidal past and then used it to make me feel like I couldn't leave him. That hair had been pulled and knotted and played and burned and insulted and yanked and hurt.
That hair is gone now.