Breaking Up is Hard to Do

So today was a big day for me. I broke up with my hairstylist of ten plus years.

Sunny and I go way back. She saw me through the end of my perm years, cut it short to save me from my perm years, colored my virgin hair, saw me through the blond streaks, even some red ones, and now to my ever-dark, pin-straight (flat-iron-damaged) hair. Even though I lived in Provo for three years, Salt Lake for almost two, I always went back to Sunny. Even when it required getting up at 4:30 a.m. to drive through a blizzard (literally, I did this) to make my 9 a.m. hair appointment. (The RAV really came through I'd have to say.) All in all, I think you could say I've been oh so faithful.

Until now.

Today I broke up with Sunny. She doesn't know this yet, but it's true. Our relationship has finally come to end. My hair was doing this weird grown out, stringy thing, and the thought of waiting another month until I'm in St. George was just too much to bear. (Excuses, excuses, I know.) But to top it off, I've been watching Gilmore Girls with a vengeance lately (early Christmas present), and Rory with her sixth season bangs has, shall we say, inspired me to move forward.

So I found a new hairstylist. And I feel like it could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Color? Perf. New bangs? Not too shabby. And Brook and I even share an uncanny addiction to the DP. A match made in heaven I'd say.

Sometimes letting go is simply the right thing to do.