Growing Your Hair

My hair had always been the same. I grows a few inches below my shoulder when I leave it to it's own devices, which is what I had done almost all of my adult life. I cut it myself, just trimming off the ends and otherwise leaving it on its own. When I was on the verge of turning 50 I briefly though about getting a grown up hair cut, but my husband's two sisters gasped in horror and I felt like I was breaking up the band, and literally said "I'll cut it when I need chemotherapy."

And lo and behold, a decade on, I needed chemotherapy--a lot of it and for a very long time, so I was bald for two years. When that ended, I just wasn't ready to let it go back into the wild. For one thing, my cancer had a terrible prognosis and I was pretty sure I would soon be making treatment choices that would not include keeping my hair. I am so grateful to have been wrong about that, but then there were the truly trivial things. My hair was a different color (black instead of brown) and less curly--I felt completely cheated--don't people usually get curlier hair? Well, not me. So it wasn't until I was nine years out and my dad was dying that I decided to let it go once again. I am not completely back to baseline, and I am certainly loads more gray, but it overall feels like a good choice.