Dear Girl Who Cut My Hair For The First Time Today,

I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you sprayed me in the face with the hair wash thing…it happens, I suppose. And the mermaid that was tattood on your arm didn’t even phase me. But when I specifically said that I part my hair on the left, I did not secretly mean I part it on the right. And when I told you I don’t like long layers in the front, I did not secretly mean I really wanted long layers in the front.

And, while I’m at it, my husband is a youth pastor. It is his full time job. He doesn’t just do it on Sundays. It is not a hobby. It is not a leisure past-time. He does not work at a high school as a teacher during the week. He gets paid to be a youth pastor. Full time. Yes, it is his only job.

Maybe you were having a bad day. I understand that. Maybe you just broke up with your boyfriend or your cat ran away or your mom has cancer or you had a sprained ankle or I look like the girl you hated in high school. I know any one of those things could be true. My heart understands that. But my hair does not. That is why I won’t be seeing you again.


Dear Girl Who Has Cut My Hair For The Past Five Years (aka Kelly),

I miss you. I am sorry I couldn’t be patient and wait til you had an opening in December. I will wait next time. You are worth it. You are wonderful and worth it and I love you.