Disclaimer: I did not write this myself, but I am posting it on behalf of Karen Thoral. I’ve mentioned her quite a bit in my posts about our adventures or her taking amazing photos. Let’s see what she has to say about her recent trip to the hair salon!
Okay, so we’ve all been there. We walk into the shop, sit in the chair, palms sweaty, blood pumping, and the slow feeling of regret inching its way up your arm like an ant making its way up to the top of a tree. You begin thinking to yourself “am I really doing this to myself after putting and spending years and effort into this?” Then they bring out the weapon of choice, the deadly…pair… of… scissors. Dramatic? Yeah, I know, but hey, you’d be dramatic too if your stylist mistakenly cut off 16 inches of your hair. You could be wondering how the hell they mistakenly cut off 16 inches? Were they blind folded? Did they sneeze while cutting your hair? Was your stylist a four-year-old by any chance? The answer to those questions is no, surprisingly.
Like many people who walk into a salon looking to get a few inches taken off, we get more than we ask for. I decided to take that step in my life where I did not want to be known as “the girl with the really long hair” anymore. Nor did I want to have to deal with my hair getting stuck in all sorts of things like hairbrushes, hair ties, bracelets, trees, or the occasional door knob. The real reason for the big chop was because I always wanted to donate my hair to a cancer organization that made wigs for kids. I did extensive research before deciding on an organization that would actually use my natural virgin hair to make wigs, instead of selling it for a profit. I chose to donate to Children with Hair Loss; it is a non-profit organization based in Michigan since 2000, that provides human hair replacements at no cost to children and young adults facing medically related hair loss.
I waited months for my hair to grow to a length I was content with in order for the chop of 10 inches to be what the organization had asked for. Sitting in the chair at the salon, I informed the stylist I only wanted 10 inches to be cut off. It didn’t hit me that she would be eyeballing this entire process, I just thought “hey, she’s probably done this a thousand times, she knows what 10 inches looks like.” At first she tied to rubber band too high, then dragged rubber band a little lower, every time I asked her to slide it down more, she then said that this length was 10 inches and if it were any lower, it wouldn’t be enough to donate. After a few back and forth remarks I said, “just do it” and in about 5 snips, it was off. I was left with what was now a bob. I knew right then and there, that was not 10 inches, but hey what could I do, no turning back now. When I got home, I took out a ruler to measure the damage, and yep you guessed it, it was about 14 inches and some change. The 2 extra inches were taken off for style purposes.
All and all, I am not a big fan of my haircut, but only time can heal that process. The good thing that came out of this experience was that I am able to provide hair that is a necessity in order to help out a kid in need which is what matters most. But hey, at least I don’t have to fight off any door knobs in the near future.