Last night, something shifted as I lay awake at 2am, listening to music. I questioned my beliefs. I thought about my attachments. There was a time when I wanted to learn what was important to me. I moved into my run down art studio – it didn’t have a kitchen or a shower and was probably 100 square feet or something. I became keenly aware of what I needed and was able to see and feel my attachments to things. Turns out I don’t need that love letter from my ex but I do want the book my grandpa read to me as a little girl. We get to choose what we keep from our past. There is something symbolic about letting the physical go – we shift the energy. We make space.
This afternoon, I cut about one foot off my hair. Thoughts of identity, labels, femininity, love crossed my mind as the scissors sheared through my attachments and released freedom. Liberation and I embraced.
The funny part – that I only realized afterward – is my mom called me two days ago. She and my brother were watching the Cowboys vs. Redskins football game. When I was 3 or so, I cut my hair EXTREMELY short when these two teams played each other. Every year, they call me to tell me to hide my scissors.