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Got My Hair Did.

The process of getting your hair done is a state of being. Nothing else quite like it and it’s genuinely a full body and mind experience that yes, can just be something that you do “for funsies” or whatever. But for me, no, my hair changes when I need to change. It’s a physical representation of my growing pains as I’m desperately trying to grow the fuck up but not look like I’m trying too hard to get there.

A hair cut is a freshening up, spring cleaning of my person and it helps me clear out whatever I’ve been working through and move the fuck on. On to something new onto something that needs more of my attention than my relationship anxieties than my fear of being lied to than X, Y, and Z.

This hair dye and hair cut mean something to me. They are a physical manifestation of my fervent hope that my anxieties will lessen. Perhaps without the loud, bright red hair that I’ve had, I can be more quiet, more calm, and relaxed about the unavoidable uncertainties of my life here on planet Earth.
I mean, I hope it does.


-Hope xoxo



Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience- or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope.”

-Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

Hope. A feeling, not just my name, you uncreative, punny, asshats. Is that mean?

So yesterday, well I guess TECHNICALLY two days ago but whatever, was prom and I had such an amazing time. My date was my best friend and he and I looked great. Like really. We looked great. The actual dance was amazing and I am so beyond blessed to have that be my last dance at my high school. 

For the first time, I got a minor wave of nostalgia. As I looked around the dance hall at all of my friends (mind you, I know almost everyone who attended and consider them my friend) and realized how amazing everyone is.There are my creative writing class friends, who all dressed up (kind of a rare and wondrous thing) and just looked stunning. Like honestly, stunning. I can’t believe how perfect they looked. Then I see my younger friends, the freshmen and sophomores, and realized that they are the ones I leaving this school to. Sure, my juniors will be there, but I see them too much as my peers. I already trust them with the future of my home. These future generations, as it were, are amazing. They are inspiring really.There is so much creativity and drive and potential that I see in them, I can’t wait to hear and see what they do in the future when I’m in college and beyond. Then there are my religious friends, the ones I guess I spend the most time with. These girls and few boys have taught me more about me and my faith and who I want to be and how to accept and love myself than any other group of people that has graced my life. They all were dressed to the nines and honestly I was hit by how much I love them. And how much I’ll miss them when we go our separate ways. 

Because let’s face it, not all high school friendships are going to last. I wish they will, but practically speaking it’s impossible. And I don’t want to give them up. How can I? They’ve been such an influence on my life and to go on without them is to leave a piece of me behind. 

But isn’t that the point of life? Opening and closing chapters. Saying hello and goodbye to our favorite characters. And watching the plot thicken as the protagonist’s character arc develops beautifully. 

Forgive the book analogy. I pretty much only speak in riddles and metaphors. 

It’s just it brings me comfort. Thoughts like that. Feeling like I really am going somewhere. That there is a purpose for my sadness and grief.

It is the hope of more and even better characters, better dialogue, more transformation, and even greater growth that keeps me going especially when I’m overwhelmed by love and despair. Two of the most synonomous words I think I know.  

It’s time I went to bed, No One. I have a busy day tomorrow. Have a good rest ❤