September is probably the toughest month out of the year for me. It has been like this for more than 25 years. September does not only hold a day of grief for all of the country because of what happened on September 11, but two days later on September 13, I am hit twice by having lost two people very close to me, exactly five years apart. I feel like these are endless days of mourning, grieving, remembering lives lost. I only think of September as a time when life was cut way too short for so many.
I love my long hair. I used to really love having short hair, also. When I was a child my mom had my dad take us to get our hair cut at a barbershop. I remember crying hysterically at the barbershop. Between the ages of five to about 17 years old, I’d either have really short hair or shoulder length hair. I learn to like short hair but I don't think I always looked the cutest with it. When I was 16 I shaved all my hair off except my bangs. I really loved that style at that time. Or maybe I just loved how brave I was to do it, especially in such a conservative state like Texas and city like the suburbs of Houston, where we lived. I arrived in California with that haircut and actually a lot of people liked it. But after growing it out, it was rare that I cut it to shoulder length. There were times that I did and I think the last time was in 2008. But cutting it short, later in life, I'd always regret it. There’s also been times that I’ve cut my hair off because I’ve been upset over a guy. Not like a Britney Spears moment, well maybe a little, but it has always been more like a freedom to rebel against what men preferred or what society considers beautiful.
