The Breakup Chop

By Suzy Langevin

“Cut it all off.”

The hairdresser standing behind Elizabeth, whose nametag read ‘Cassidy’, eyed her carefully in the mirror. “Bad breakup?”

She sighed, her hands fidgeting beneath the black vinyl cape. “Is it that obvious?”

“First thing they teach you in beauty school, when a woman wants the big chop, it’s usually because of heartbreak.”

“Unfortunately accurate.”

“Are you sure? It’s usually an impulsive decision. I don’t want you to regret it, because the second thing they teach you is you can always cut more and make it shorter, but I can’t magically make it longer once we go for it.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I just lost about 190 pounds of dead weight, I’m ready to shed the rest of it by cutting off this hair.”

Cassidy laughed. “Ok, then let’s do it. But I’m professionally obligated to advise you against getting bangs in your current state.”

“No bangs,” she assured her. “Just a cute little bob that says I’m an independent woman who doesn’t care if he likes my hair long anymore.”

They went over to the shampoo bowl, and Elizabeth felt herself start to relax as the hot water and scalp massage washed away some of the tension she’d been carrying since her ex had left three nights ago. A single shampoo couldn’t wash two years of wasted tears and unfulfilled wishes, but at least it felt nice as the stylist’s nails scratched gently across her exhausted skin.

They went back to the cutting chair, and as the stylist sectioned her hair, she asked “Do you want to talk about it?”

What was there to say? That she’d been stupid enough to believe that he could change? That she’d bought the lies that he’d just forgotten to delete his Tinder profile? That she was so afraid of being alone that she settled for something worse than nothing? And in the end, she didn’t even get to be the one who ended it. In one final act of humiliation, he walked out on her.

“Not really,” was all she could muster in reply.

“Then let’s focus on showing this idiot what he fumbled.”

Cassidy worked with a calm efficiency, half a foot of dead ends, both follicular and romantic, hitting the floor. Elizabeth’s breath grew lighter, less labored as the weight of the wet hair fell off, and by the time the stylist picked the blow dryer up off the station, the clench that she’d felt in her chest for days finally started to loosen.

One thorough blow out later, Cassidy spun the chair back around to face the mirror. “What do you think?”

Elizabeth could hardly believe what she saw staring back at her. She looked like she did her junior year in college, when she’d studied abroad in Paris and cut her hair to fit in with the French style. Ten years seemed to be erased from her appearance, as long as she overlooked the dark circles under her eyes from crying so much the last several days.

“Thank you, it’s perfect,” she said as she ran her hands through her hair, letting the blunt ends slip through her fingertips. Cassidy took the cape off, and Elizabeth went to the desk to pay, leaving a 100% tip.

Elizabeth slipped on her sunglasses as she headed back onto the crowded Boston street. The South End was buzzing on a bright spring day, and she was contemplating stopping at one of the many street side cafes for a coffee, or maybe a glass of wine, when a voice interrupted her contemplation. “Lizzie? Lizzie Martin?”

It was a voice she’d know anywhere, especially when he called her ‘Lizzie’. No one had called her that since college, when she dropped the nickname in favor of the more sophisticated sounding Elizabeth. But hearing that voice call her Lizzie sounded like perfection.

She turned around to see Adam in the middle of the sidewalk, looking just as surprised as she felt. Adam had been her boyfriend her senior year of college, the guy she fell head over heels for. But they split up when law school and life took her to the west coast while he started his career in Boston, where they’d gone to school. She still followed him on social media for a while, before she had to hide his profile filled with pictures of him and his girlfriend, overwhelmed with the regret of leaving him behind.

“Adam.” Her heart raced as she took a step towards him. “So great to see you.”

“Definitely,” he agreed. “Are you visiting the city?”

“Oh, no. I—I moved back about a year ago. My boyfriend, well, now my ex, I guess, got a job here, so I came with him. Turns out the guy was a bust, but I do love being back in Boston.”

“You’ve been back for a whole year and never texted me to get together?”

“I didn’t think your girlfriend would appreciate your college ex looking you up.”

He gave a rueful laugh. “What girlfriend? Been single for a minute now.”

Guess she should have kept him on Instagram. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

A half smile played on his lips. “I’m not, at least not now that I see you again. You look incredible, just like I remember.” He paused. “Short hair really suits you.”

A blush raced up her cheeks. She ran her fingers through her newly cropped hair, grateful for the timing of her breakup chop.

“Thanks. And hey, I was just about to grab a glass of wine, maybe you would”

“I’d love to,” he cut in. “I know just the place. They have amazing bread, just like you like. The French influence and all.”

She was shocked that he remembered, especially since her ex routinely advised her to leave the breadbasket alone. “That sounds great. Yeah, let’s do it.”

As he came alongside her, his hand went to the small of her back, raising goosebumps on her flesh despite the lack of chill in the spring air.

Maybe getting her hair cut wasn’t going to be about a fresh start. Maybe it was just finding her way back to what she needed all along.

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