By the end of the summer, my hair was an ungodly length. I was shedding beyond belief, something my parents never failed to complain about. My hair took a bazillion hours to air dry. And unlike most Asian people, I was gifted with this weird semi-wavy, semi-straight hair, which considering the fact that most of my hair was practically dead, meant there was a constant frizz fest on my head.

I guess you could say I had a hair cape, and it was really annoying.

I decided that I wanted to cut my hair and donate it because I could afford to take off quite of bit of length and still manage to have a substantial amount of hair on my head. Now, I essentially went in with the idea that I would be cutting eight inches, 10 max.

I specifically told my hairdresser that I wanted to keep as much length as possible because I personally didn't think I would look that great with shorter hair.

Well, I'm still not sure if she knew what inches are, but she tied the hair that she planned to cut off and simply snipped away. So she passes me the hair she cut off, and I just sit there thinking, "This is way more than 10 inches. Don't freak out."

I couldn't back out at this point. I go home and decide to measure the hair myself and it was longer than the ruler that I was using.

No big deal.

As you can tell, I was not exactly expecting this sort of outcome, so here are some of the thoughts that I had after my life-changing haircut.

Although I was pretty unhappy initially after my hair cut, I realized it's just hair and maybe there are more benefits than disadvantages to having shorter hair. Besides, sooner or later, my hair will be super long again, and I will probably be annoyed beyond belief just like the good ol' days.