EDITOR’S NOTE: The “Live the List” initiative seems to be taking off. I’ve had a number of people reach out to me about making a life list, marking off a specific task on their list OR helping someone else accomplish something on their list. This is a guest post written by my friend Courtney. She recently crossed a wonderfully great item off her list – I asked her to share her story.
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by Courtney Foster
It’s totally crazy, right? The nerve-wracking, constant worries. The unsettling and irrational fear. The plummeting self-confidence. “I can’t do this” crossed my mind every time I looked at myself in the mirror. I tried to talk myself out it, tried to undo the decision I had made a week prior. But as the date drew closer, I knew it was something I had to do. I had to keep this promise to myself.
Like I said, I’m crazy, right? All of that nonsense over a haircut?
Let me explain. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a “long hair kind of girl.” I cut my hair above my shoulders once before in my life — in middle school, no less. Needless to say, it was hideous. I blame that partly on the fact that it was middle school. (Doesn’t everyone burn their middle school photos?)
Mostly though, I came to understand that I didn’t have the confidence to pull off a short ‘do. For most of my life I’ve hid behind a curtain of long, blonde hair – hiding a lack of self confidence behind my shiny locks.
It didn’t help that my hair had it’s own little fan club. I honestly don’t know what it is, but I’ve been told all my life that I have great hair. I’ve even had strangers ask to touch it. (True story.)
I only told a few of closest family and friends of my intentions for my impending hair appointment. Most were shocked, called me crazy and/or tried to convince me otherwise. When I told two of my best friends, they shouted “NO!” in complete unison. When I told my husband, he asked “Why?”– like a little boy when their parents tell them to go to bed early. When I told my mom, the president of the Courtney Hair Fan Club, her jaw dropped and she had to fight back tears.
My adversaries only further fueled my desire to go through with the cut—a cut that meant more than overcoming my fears and my own personal vanity.
Donating my hair to Locks of Love is something I’ve always wanted to do – something I’ve always felt compelled to do. When I put my bucket list on paper a few months ago, it was in my top five. It is a fantastic organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children suffering from long-term medical hair loss. I knew in my heart that it was something I needed to do. It was a gift I could give to a sweet child who needed it much more than me.
I needed 10 inches to make the minimum cut length for donations. I knew I had it, but I measured just to be sure. I saw the 10” mark at my shoulders and the nervous butterflies shot into my stomach like bats out of hell. Flashbacks of my middle school mugshots flew through my mind and I was completely terrified, nauseous and determined to talk myself out of it.