the reasons for the short hair...

three years ago today, i cut off my hair.

up to that point, it was long and gorgeous.

think this:

to this:

no one knew it at the time, in fact, i'd bet most people still don' t know....but i cut it off as some weird, twisted punishment directed at the man who changed my life.

he loved my long hair.

he'd tell me it was gorgeous.

that i was stunning.

i kept my hair long because he loved it.

i spent hours keeping it perfect.

but after abusing me emotionally for years,

molesting me for several months,

raping me once,

and nearly raping me a second time,

i cut it off.

i just couldn't shake the memory of his fingers getting lost in my curls.

suddenly a part of me i'd loved so much was just a dirty reminder of what he'd done to me.

rather than cut him from my life, i cut off my hair.

then i gained 20 pounds on purpose.

all in the hopes that he wouldn't find me attractive anymore.

he still did. and that really scared me.

it's been three years.

in that time,

i've cut him from my life.

i came forward with the truth.

i stood my ground, though giving in would have been easier.

i lost most of my family.

i lost nearly all of my friends.

i've been called slut. skank. whore. homewrecker. liar. bitch.

basically every bad word in the book.

and i was called these things by people i loved, who weren't supposed to hurt me.

he wouldn't look me in the eyes as he denied nearly everything that he did to me.

he watched me testify, knew how much it was killing me to tell the truth while breaking the promise i made to him, "never to tell."

i've turned to others, hoping to fill the void he created.

i'm more jumpy now.

i don't trust as freely.

i don't laugh as easily.

and i'm terrified to fall in love.

because maybe, just maybe, they'd end up hurting me worse than he did.

though i'm not sure it's possible.

he was in my life for six years.

he was my best friend and he knew it.

he used that against me.

i was a broken girl. and he used me.

pieces that had merely been broken were shattered.

the extent of the damage he caused...i still don't really know.

and i think he knows that. even now.

i need to find a way to let go.

i need to let myself cry.

i need to let myself feel all these emotions fighting their way to the surface.

but i don't know how.

i guess i'll grow out my hair again.

maybe lose those extra pounds.

those can be the first steps of the journey.

"every step of the journey is the journey."

i have some hard steps to take.

and they might take awhile.

but i'm hoping i'm finally ready to take them.

and if i'm not quite ready....

well, it's been three years.

apparently i've already got time and patience on my side.