Has Rebecca made the biggest mistake of her life?

I’ve been telling myself for a long time that since I’m doing something as scary as going to a foreign country by myself, then I should be able to handle something as scary as cutting my hair off. I’ve had long hair all my life, and I really like it, but I wanted to try short hair at least once before I died. Today I finally worked up the courage and went to the hair salon in the mall. I had my last haircut in 2005, and at least ten inches was coming off. Sara came with me for moral support.

I don’t know exactly when I realized that my short hair wasn’t going to look the way I’d hoped. Maybe it was when I saw Sara making that grimace behind me in the mirror, which she now swears she never did. In any case, I somehow managed to get back into my truck before I burst into tears. I cried hysterically the entire way home and probably would have crashed the truck if not for Sara, who kept repeating, "It looks good! You look nice! I’m telling you!" When we got home, I made her go inside and bring me my Harry Potter baseball cap before I would come in. I still haven’t taken it off, so no one else but Sara has seen my new haircut. I don’t want to think about what Mom and Adam will say when they do.

But I keep trying to tell myself that all is not lost. I’m still keeping my Harry Potter cap on, but my haircut gets a little less painful each time I look in the mirror. I was also smart enough to buy some makeup before I cut my hair, which should help me feel more feminine (my haircut is incredibly boyish-looking, which is probably the worst thing about it). Now I’ve just got to figure out how to wear makeup; that was one more part of becoming a woman that Rebecca ignored because she’s afraid of growing up. I’m also wearing a long dangly pair of Sara’s earrings, so I don’t feel quite so naked. My hair used to reach down past my bra strap. Now it’s not even past my ears. Now it’s sitting in a big braid in my purse, waiting to be mailed to Locks of Love, where I hope that it will be made into a wig for a sick child, so that at least one good thing comes out of this mess.