I cut my hair

I cut my hair. I chose to do it because I wanted to. Even though I knew I wanted to, I couldn’t help but hearing disapproving voices in my head. I had anxiety about it, but I still did it. It was time.

8 inches of growth, new beginnings, endings, grief, growing up, breaking down, so many tears of joy. Over the last 8 years, I have become a woman. I’ve been held by my people, sometimes even carried through many rites of passage. And the most recent one has sealed the deal: watching mom go through triple bypass open heart surgery.

When I saw her lifeless body on the table solely being sustained by a ventilator, I was changed. It was like the ‘momma bear, hear me roar’ was activated inside of me in a more mature sense than ever. My son will be three in a couple weeks and I’ve never felt responsibility for my family as I do now. Now that my body lived for moments without my mom, Reality is clear and it’s sobering. Despite these big shifts in my awareness, I feel more still than I ever have before. I have secrets of strength living within my bones that will pass onto my children and everyone I love. They’ve always been there, it’s just like now the grandmothers have whispered them in my ear.