I've given up an idol.
A few days ago I cut my hair.
I'd worn it the same way for about 30 years, since I was 16.
Until now the thought of cutting my hair was terrifying. It was long, and mouse brown, and I'd somehow interconnected it with my personhood.
Now it is neither long (by the previous standard) nor brown. I don't think the new color is particularly flattering, and the cut is just ok. But it doesn't matter. I'm not traumatized.
Who I am is not in long hair, nor in any of the other things I've defined myself to be over the past years of coping.
An idol is gone, and in discovering that I survived the loss, it has become easier to breathe.
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