ch-ch-changes

there was once a time when liquid eyeliner and lipstick were two of my most faithful friends. i just wasn’t myself without a good winged eye and bold, red lip; it felt unnatural (and almost wrong) to go without it.

there was once a time i put genuine effort into my appearance on a regular basis — not to appease anyone but myself, mind you — spending hours planning outfits in advance, actually “attempting” to do my hair, drawing fashion inspiration from photoshoots and films to create a style that was unique to myself.

it feels like a lifetime ago.


i’m not the same person i used to be. since becoming a mama, i’ve let most of the little things i did to bring myself joy fall by the wayside; after all, there was a much greater, much more important task laid out before me — one that would require all the energy i could possibly muster if i wanted to tackle it properly.

the lasting effects of carrying life, giving birth, breastfeeding, and raising a child had me desperately wanting to hide my ruined face and body. i let my hair grow and grow and grow, hoping that by some miracle, i could conceal my flaws and insecurities behind it. but hiding problems won’t ever solve them.

the hard truth: i’ll probably always have dark circles and brittle hair, loose skin and saggy breasts, stretch marks and wider hips.

but motherhood doesn’t just take. it gives and it gives. and the gifts i’ve been given — patience and understanding, kindness and compassion, gratitude and joy — are far more wonderful than the fragile, fleeting beauty of youth.


it was time for a change. it was well past time. i found the courage i needed to march into the salon and finally be rid of the false security blanket i had so fiercely clung to.

nearly three years have passed, and i still struggle to find who i am. it’s so easy to lose yourself in motherhood.

i needed a fresh start — a major chop. short hair is sassy and bold and unapologetic; it’s full of life and personality; it’s everything i feel i’ve always been but have lost (or perhaps forgotten) in the fight to discover who i am now — as a woman, as a mama, and as a wife.

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