Every time I’ve cut my hair, there has been loss. The first time was like cutting a leash: My parents couldn’t tell me what I would do with my own body anymore. I lost the dependance of childhood.

The second time was when I lose my Granny. I cut it to my chin, the shortest length I’ve ever had it, to show the depth of my loss. She was a parent. I grieved deeply.

The third was after I had my daughter. I lost my “Maiden” status when I gave birth – which nearly killed me. I was a Mom. That time I only cut it below my chin, as it was a beginning for me as well. I love my daughter and she was worth every drop of blood I spilled to bring her in to this world.

Now, I have lost my Mother.

So, I give it to her. I love her enough that she can have it.

Hopefully, I never have to cut my hair again.