My hair falls to the middle of my back. It’s been so long and not so long since I cut it all off.
I had just gotten back from Africa. From climbing Kilimanjaro, from seeing Lushoto with Tring and from walking the streets of Dar es Salaam. So much inside me changed after Africa. I understood that the fences were built by me. That the limits are all unknown and that fear should not stop me from testing my limits. Because how do you know how far or where you can go, unless you test it? I also understood that I lived in a mansion and my ability to buy fresh food from the grocery was a luxury.
I got off the plane, my mother picked me up and drove me home. Then I threw my things in my car and drove straight to the Visible Changes. I told her to cut it all off. And I went back to my apartment with short hair.
The next day at work my friend Eric said, “Why is it that after a big trip girls cut their hair?”
I thought and replied, “I felt so changed that I needed to find a way to express it outwardly.”
And for a long time I lived not caring what others thought of me.