When I was a kid, I had a bowl haircut. It didn't even occur to me until I was 8 that I actually had a choice to grow it out, but once I realized it, there was no going back. I grew it, and I grew it, and by the time I left college (my hair grew really slowly), I had a mane of beautiful, healthy red hair. Then one day, a day like any other, I woke up, and my gorgeous, long hair felt like an extra limb. I couldn't wait to get rid of it, and my overwhelming desire outweighed my fear that short hair (no matter how "trendy") would make my face look even rounder than it already was. It's been an emotional journey, but definitely one worth sharing. Here are the stages I went through.