Back when I was in ninth grade, I had really long hair—something I was quite proud of. One day, seemingly out of the blue, my mom decided to take me to a barbershop. No warning, no discussion. We walked in, and before I could process what was happening, she instructed the barber to cut my hair short—really short, like a boy’s cut. The barber, looking a bit unsure, asked, “Do you mean a bob?”
“No,” my mom responded firmly. “Cut it above her ears.”
I sat there, stunned, as the barber began trimming away my long locks. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I could feel them streaming down my cheeks. It wasn’t just the hair—something about the moment felt overwhelming. The other customers in the shop watched us, their eyes sympathetic but silent.
As the scissors snipped closer to my scalp, my mom kept urging the barber to go shorter and shorter. The poor barber, clearly uncomfortable, eventually asked, “Is that enough, ma’am?”
But my mom wasn’t done. She stood up from her chair, smiled at me, and said, “No. Cut mine the same way.”
Turns out, my mom had been secretly planning for us to attend a Halloween party together, and she wanted us to show up with matching bowl cuts. I couldn’t believe it. She’d sacrificed her own hair just to pull off this joint costume idea.
At the party, we ended up getting a lot of compliments for our commitment to the theme. People marveled at how much effort we’d put into our costumes, and by the end of the night, we even won the “Best Costume” award. While I was initially mortified, I have to admit there was something oddly fun about being in it together with my mom.
Now, whenever I think back on that moment, I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. But most of all, I miss her dearly. That spontaneous, bold decision of hers—though difficult for me at the time—was just one of the many ways she showed her love in the most unexpected and memorable ways.
