The almost-week since chopping off my hair has been a study in feminine power. On that first day, walking out of the salon clutching my 10-inch severed ponytail, I felt a strange combination of liberation and uncertainty. I no longer had the heavy weight of thick hair over my back and shoulders, and my neck felt bare and vulnerable. Later, of course, I thrilled at how quickly I could wash my hair in my crappy, low-water pressure shower, and marveled at how, when I pulled a blouse over my head, there was no hair to heave out from under it. But the feeling of uncertainty remained.

“Do I look stocky?” I asked my cornered husband. I narrowed my eyes at myself in the mirror and stood with my hands on my hips. Then I turned my stare to him. “So?”

“Um…no?” he replied and then quickly ducked out of the bathroom. Smart man.

I realize now that I did not look stocky; after all, if anything I had lost ounces, not gained them! But I felt that I’d also lost that element that has made women feel feminine and sexy for millennia: long hair. As the week wore on and I grew more used to my new reflection—and played with alternating looks between sleek and choppy—I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at the attachment I had had to my hair. I mean, I’m a smart girl. I have a great career. I work out, and my body feels stronger and abler every day. Most of the time, I feel pretty confident. So why suddenly feel as though parts of those great characteristics had disappeared with my—let’s face it, slightly damaged—ponytail? Silly, silly, silly!

And now? I love feeling the early spring breeze tickle the back of my neck. I love that the tops of my shoulders show even when my hair is down. And it’s soo much fun experimenting with different makeup looks to go along with the hair. My advice to any of you ladies seeking self-discovery? Head to your stylist. With a sharp and shiny pair of scissors, she’ll be able to help you out.