Hair is very important to me (and probably to a lot of other people too). I’ve gone through my fair share of bad hair eras in my life that I am not eager to repeat, including a poorly executed chemical perm, a mushroom bob, and emo highlights.

Nevertheless, for the past few weeks, I have gotten bored of my hair. It was completely fine — I think I’ve moved past the age in which I made horrible decisions — but it bored me. For most of the last month, I had had my hair up in a bun rather than down, which signaled to me it was time for a change. I have always been a fan of a blunt cut at shoulder length, and wanted that to be my new look. Even so, I was a little skeptical about going to a hairdresser. Everyone knows that in the hair salon, 2 inches turns into 4 and suddenly the cut you walk out with is nothing like the cut you imagined.

I went home this weekend wanting a haircut but not wanting to wait for one. I was on the couch watching TV with my mom when I thought, "Why don’t I cut it myself?" I had seen plenty of girls do it on YouTube and it seemed simple enough. I had asked my mom what she thought of the idea and she seemed on board, which was ultimately what gave me the okay. (I trust my mom’s judgment unconditionally.) I grabbed scissors from my mom’s bathroom, a hairbrush, a couple hair ties, and pulled up a YouTube tutorial. I tied my hair, just as the women on screen instructed.

At that point, I could’ve chickened out. I’m really not a daring or spontaneous person, and this move was little out of character. There have been many times when I planned to do something outlandish, but decided in the end that it was too outlandish, and this cut could have definitely been one of those plans.

I have no idea what gave me the courage (or the stupidity) to raise my scissors to my hair and attempt to cut off the pigtails. For a moment after, I felt regret — what if it turns out horrible and I hate it and I could never show my face in public ever again? But the first cut was done, and I couldn’t stop unless I wanted some parts of my hair to be significantly shorter than the rest.

If you are trying to picture me cutting my hair, don’t picture Mulan cutting all her hair with a giant sword in one big swoosh. (I lied in the title). Picture me, in my cramped bathroom, with tiny scissors awkwardly and ungracefully attempting to cut my very thick pigtail in one go. Cutting my hair reminded me of cutting cardboard with children’s scissors. But after the first cut, all my fears went out the window, and I ended up losing 4 inches of hair.

After, I got to play hairdresser by evening out the ends and point cutting (when you cut vertically with the scissors). I walked out of a bathroom feeling like at least $100, not only because I saved some time and money from having to go to a salon, but also because I took a risk to create something that I ended up loving. Cutting one’s own hair might not be for everyone and it could go really, really wrong, but I probably wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.