So two nights ago I got the idea to finally chop my long, long, super long, locks off. (Did I mention that they were long?)

I always knew that when the time had come to chop all of the length off that it would be a spontaneous kind of deal. I am not a real plan-it-out type of girl with that stuff. If I think about it for too long, I'll end up not doing it.

So the scoop is:

I've been growing my crazy mane since my high school days. I used to babysit the worlds most precious girl named, Emily. She was four at the time and right after I had left home to go to art school (where the High School students lived in dorms and only breathed, ate, and slept art) I found out that Emily had been diagnosed with a brain tumor.  I was nothing short of devastated. I had never heard of something happening to someone so little, or so innocent, and it threw my world completely off.

Some of you might wonder how close a 17 year old could actually be to a 4 year old, but let me tell you something, kids are amazing. I have always felt connected to children with their wide-eyed view of the world. Emily and I would call each other our "bestest friend" and she would sometimes hold up the communion line at church to make sure that I saw her waving to me. She was just that kind of girl. Sweet and she absolutely loved any and everyone.

Wanting to help in some way, I found out about Locks of Love, where generous people donate 10 inches or longer of their hair to children, adults, whomever it may be, who cannot grow hair on their own, or have lost it from radiation treatments. I decided to start growing my hair then and have since been growing it as long as I could manage.

I could have probably donated years ago, but by that point I had worked so hard at growing it that I had felt some silly attachment to it.

Then two days ago I remembered why I had started growing it in the first place. And that was all I needed to make the appointment.

After remembering the real reason for growing out my precious locks, getting it all cut off was surprisingly easy. It was so freeing to know that I had finally done what I had planned to do all of these years. While it may not have helped Emily directly, I know that it will go to someone who needs it and will love it more than I ever could.

I donated over 12 inches and I couldn't feel happier.

It has been over 3 years since Emily passed away, and it still brings tears to my eyes thinking about her wonderful spirit throughout her short life. Her smile was one of the greatest gifts she could ever give anyone, and I know that everyone who knew her felt the same.

So goodbye, long locks. 

And hello, short hair.

I know you will go to someone who needs it, and that makes me happier than anything else.




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