Who? What? When? Where? Why? (But Rarely .Why)

I like people-- talking to people, listening to people, and but mostly loving people. 

I like stories-- writing them, telling them, but mostly listening to them.

I like questions-- answering them, writing them, but mostly asking them. 

This being said, a lot can happen when all three of these get together for a party.

When people gather to ask questions that involve story answers, time can stop for a moment. 

Time doesn't actually stop. It's more of a "I know what questions people are going to ask, so I don't even need to think about what I have to say" kind of time stopping. 

Sometimes it's better to tell a story once and for all. 

Well, over the past two weeks, I have experienced more of these experiences that I have in my entire life. 

Why? Because I got my hair cut.

Right?! The world must be ending. Pack your bags, grab what you can, load up the minivan with all your kids, pets and belongings. Someone with long hair cut it. I know, shocker. 

I've only been asked why a handful of times, but I would rather answer this question than be told why. 

I'll let you know the one thing that people with long hair don't tell you:

It becomes the number one thing that you are identified by. 

If you tell me about how "beautiful it was" or how "great it was" or how "much you loved it" you might not get the reaction you're expecting. It's nothing that I haven't heard before. I'm sorry. If you are looking to be original, you might have to try harder. 

You see, I know that I cut my hair. (It was my hair.) I know that it used to be long. (It still kind of is.) I know that I can't do as much. (Trust me, I've tried.) I know that it will take a while for them to get used to. (Even I am adjusting and it is my head.)

I didn't cut it because I "needed a change," because "it was far too much to handle," because it was near the new year and "new year, new me" happened. I understand that all these are plausible reasons, but not for me. 

I cut it because there is more to me than my hair. It isn't what I need(or honestly want) attached to my name. 

The number of times I've been called "Megan, you know, the one with long hair" or something like that far exceeds the number of times I've been called "Megan, the one that loves people" (heck, I'd be happy with most other titles). I don't want a title of something that changes with something as simple as a pair of scissors. You cant cut my heart out. You cant take my respect. You cant take my listening. But, you can take my hair.

Here, take it. 

The thing about change is that once you've given people something to identify you by, it can take them a long time to adapt even though they're not the one changing. 

Goodbye to the "girl with really long brown hair" and hello to the "girl that used to have really long brown hair."