I had chopped off my long hair when I was so heartbroken in December 2020. I kept my hair long for my ex because he liked it that way. Cutting it really short was an act of rebellion on my part, sort of taking back control when I couldn’t have the same kind of agency in other aspects of my life then. I told the hairdresser, “Give me a haircut that would give justice to a girl who was dumped by her partner.” My hairdresser understood the assignment.

For years I kept it short and always went back to that hairdresser because he understood what I was going through.

Last year when we had our professional headshots taken c/o my company, I still kept my hair short. Professional. Intimidating.

I didn’t realize that it has been a year since I had a haircut. I had grown it long again and I haven’t been bothered by it. Maybe because I’m past the survival mode stage. Maybe because I am truly healing, not the contrived healing I had set for myself during the first two years. Last year was hard because I uprooted myself and my kids from the life I’ve known the last 20 years and started over. It was hard because of Twin A’s health crisis.

However, 2023 was cathartic, too. I learned how to be stronger and became really happy with how my life turned out, despite the challenges.

When I reflected on this—my hair and what it meant—I realized I no longer have hate reigning in my heart. I think I no longer hurt. I think I have reached the apathy stage. Maybe I’m at this stage where my urge to throw my shoes at him if I encounter him is no longer that strong.

My regret is that I had those last three agonizing years with me, leaving deep scars on me.

My hair is long again. Does it mean I am trying to be attractive to the opposite sex again? I’m not sure. I’m happy with the way things are.

I’m just happy taking care of myself.