It was after hours at the bookstore where I work, and my friend Silke had the scissors in her hands. “Are you sure?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure. She wouldn’t do it until I was.

My friend Ted had just refused to make the cut. Was he worried about the outcome? Did he think I would be less of a woman? His refusal had contributed to my hesitation.

But I’ve never been one who’s been concerned about what other people think of me. And I was not going to let a potentially poor response prevent me from fulfilling a commitment I made to myself more than two years ago. I told Silke to go ahead, to cut it. Cut the 10-inch braid at the back of my head.

And then it was over, and I was holding my hair in my hand.

Surprisingly, it was not a particularly attractive piece of hair once it was in my hand. It was frayed and seemed really … the word that comes to mind is wimpy. All of that emotional struggle over a wimpy, frayed piece of hair.

I felt great.

The Beginning

Here’s my dirty little secret: some of my best moments in life are spent alone in front of my television. I happily knit for hours or bead some jewelry to the soothing drone of my set. And I’m just as content as can be.

So it must have been on television that I first heard about it. Probably on Oprah (the person responsible for the few good deeds I’ve carried out in my life) or perhaps on a news program.

Regardless of where the idea originated, I’ve had the application to Locks of Love for more than two years. I kept the application with all of my bills, so I’ve seen it dozens of times. A constant reminder.

For those who weren’t watching the same channel I was, Locks of Love is an organization that collects hair donations to make low-cost wigs available to children who have lost their hair.

Now, I’ve had a mop of curly hair most of my adult life. And as I am a member of America’s rat race, my time is scarce and my money is tight. Hair is the one thing I’ve got to give. Locks of Love provides a service that is easy for me to do and touches my heart, making it smile. More importantly, my donation will bring a hurting child even greater happiness than it does me.

Unfortunately, Locks of Love requires at least a 10-inch braided donation, and my curly bob had its shortcomings when I first got the application. I had a long two-year wait for my hair to grow.

And much to my surprise, I began to love my lengthening tresses. Maybe long hair made me feel more feminine or more flirty or just more pretty, but I now understand how hair can be part of what identifies a person. And I would be less than honest if I didn’t confess that my first reaction to Silke’s cut was “Ouch!”

But I know that the pain I felt isn’t even close to that of a small child who has lost his or her hair because of a medical disorder. Surely there’s someone who once had Shirley Temple ringlets who will love a wig made of my hair. And I’m thrilled to be able to give that gift to that person. Simply put, it makes me feel good.

The Reaction

In all honesty, I wish my haircut wasn’t so noticeable. I don’t like being the center of attention, and I am slightly taken aback when people comment on my new appearance. I would have preferred to do my good deed in private. Fortunately, though, the reaction has been extremely positive, especially after I explain the reasons for my haircut. People seem genuinely touched. And here’s an unexpected bonus: even Ted complimented my newly shorn hair.

I’ve been without my full mane for about two days now, and I’ve got to say I slightly miss wearing bouncy ponytails, which seemed to better match my often laughing personality than does my new corporate-like ‘do. On the plus side, however, is the time I save during my morning shampoo and the better pillow contact when I lay my head down at night.

And I know it’s just a matter of time before I’m swinging my curls all over town again. That is, until I’ve got another 10 inches to be snipped.