I finally cut my hair.

it took four years of passive contemplation 

to finally make that decision.

I sat in the chair & 

watched as bits of purple 

fluttered to the ground with each snip.

part of me was scared.

another was jumping for joy.

joy to finally look less like the old me,

fear that people wouldn’t like who I was now.

either way, the cut was done.

I looked in the mirror,

& found someone new staring back.

someone happier.

someone just a little less feminine.

someone that finally looked like me.

I now cannot believe 

that my hair was ever even an inch longer.

I stare back at older photos of myself,

at she who had longer hair she hid behind, 

behind what people deemed “feminine”.

though, it was never really her.

At last, I’ve been severed from that girl 

with that saddened look in her eyes.

though, if she could see me today,

with hair resting above my shoulders,

I think she would, for once, smile,

& tell me I am beautiful.