I'm not Sampson
My powers are not held safe within my long, luscious locks. I am not a better human because I rack up Ulta points on expensive shampoos or deep condition on a religious schedule. I didn’t wear pink on Wednesdays, or earn a promotion, or land a new client, or make new friends because of my naturally-colored, level 4 beach waves. They’re not responsible for reeling in my biggest catch, nor the reason he dropped the L word barely an hour after saying k bye to the friend zone. They’re not what drove me to hike a Colorado trail while fighting a brutal fever (that was a dumb choice - no regrets) or to launch a business. They’re not the reason I get to be a mom, or a wife, or a business owner, or rival Dorthy Zbornak’s clap backs.
They’re not the reason for any of it, but some days my locks feel like my superhero cape.
So today we do what’s scary. Like jumping out of a plane knowing I’m terrified of heights.
Today, I take back a bit of control and do this on my own terms.
Today, we see if my head is as round and perfect at Sweet baby Elsie James’.
Goodbye, locks. See you on the cancer-free side.
