Why I’m Cutting My Hair During a Major Life Transition

There are moments in life when a decision looks simple from the outside, but carries the weight of an entire season behind it. Cutting my hair was one of those moments.

On the surface, it’s just hair. A new cut. A fresh look. Something people do every day. But for me, this cut wasn’t about trend, convenience, or even aesthetics. It was about release. It was about choosing myself in a season where everything familiar had quietly fallen away.

After a 16‑year relationship came to an end, I found myself standing in a strange in‑between space. Not who I was, not yet who I’m becoming. There was grief (not just for the relationship, but for the version of myself that existed inside of it). The shared routines. The future I thought I was walking toward. The identity that had been shaped over time without me even realizing it.

Breakups don’t just ask you to mourn another person. They ask you to confront yourself. And in that confrontation, you start noticing what you’ve been holding onto simply because it was familiar.

Hair, Identity, and Letting Go

Hair has always been deeply personal for me. It’s cultural. Emotional. A form of self‑expression and self‑protection. Over the years, my hair has held so many versions of me: the ambitious corporate girl, the polished professional, the woman trying to be everything at once, the partner, the caretaker, the steady one.

And suddenly, I didn’t need to be steady anymore… I needed to be honest.

Cutting my hair has become a physical way of saying: I’m not carrying what no longer belongs to me. I’m not preserving an image for a life that’s already ended. I’m creating space — on my head, in my body, in my spirit… for what’s next.

The Year of the Horse and Choosing Momentum

This year also happens to be the Year of the Horse, which feels almost too on‑the‑nose… even as a Scorpio.

In many traditions, the horse represents movement, independence, stamina, and freedom. It’s about momentum. About trusting your instincts and not being tethered to the past out of fear. And while Scorpio energy is often associated with depth, transformation, and shedding skin, the Year of the Horse complements that beautifully. One asks you to feel it all. The other asks you to move anyway.

That symbolism landed for me because the horse doesn’t ask for permission to run. It doesn’t over‑explain its pace. It moves because it knows it must. And honestly, that’s how this season feels.

So, I’m not cutting my hair because I’m lost. I’m cutting it because I’m moving. Because I’m choosing a life that feels lighter, more intentional, more aligned with who I am becoming… not who I’ve been performing as.

There’s something quietly powerful about changing your appearance when your inner world has shifted. It’s not about erasing the past. It’s about acknowledging that you’ve changed, and allowing the outside to catch up.

This new cut feels like a commitment to myself. To simplicity and to maintenance that supports my life instead of consuming it. To showing up as I am… softer in some ways, stronger in others.

And to be EXTRA clear: my curls aren’t going anywhereeeeee. Neither are my hair wraps, my rituals, or the joy I’ve always found in expressing myself through my hair. Those parts of me still exist, they’re just evolving.

If you’ve followed my journey through curls, wraps, and protective styles, you know hair has always been a form of storytelling for me. That continues here, just with more intention and ease. This choice wasn’t about abandoning identity, but about making room for women who may be standing where I am now. Women navigating heartbreak, reinvention, or a quiet but profound life transition, wondering how to honor who they’ve been while stepping into who they’re becoming.

It’s also a reminder that reinvention doesn’t have to be dramatic to be meaningful. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s just a few inches. Sometimes it’s the decision to stop clinging.

Becoming Again: A New Chapter

As I step into this next chapter with new routines, new rhythms, new dreams that are mine alone, I want my life to reflect ease, clarity, and forward motion. I want to feel at home in my body again. I want to recognize myself when I look in the mirror.

This haircut will not be the beginning of my healing. That work started long before the scissors came out. But it is a marker, kind of like a line in the sand and a moment where I basically said: this is mine now.

Truth be told: I don’t know exactly where this year will take me. But I do know this: I’m no longer waiting for another lifetime to live fully. I’m choosing momentum and honesty. Above all: I’m choosing to run toward my life with trust, even when the path isn’t fully visible.

And sometimes, that choice starts with shedding and releasing what once was… even when it’s grown with you for years.

If you’re standing at your own edge, unsure whether to release something familiar or step into a version of yourself that feels untested and tender, know this: you don’t have to have it all figured out to move forward. You’re allowed to change and allowed to choose ease. You’re also allowed to honor who you were while still making room for who you’re becoming.

Related Reading & Internal Links

• Hair & Ritual: Explore my ongoing love for curls and wraps in my hair care page.

• Travel as Healing: I also write about how movement and travel support growth on my destinations page.