Let go mama. Let him spread his wings and fly. Allow him to discover who he is, without the weight of his curls, or his mistakes or his past story. At three and half he has a story and he wants more than anything to start writing his own chapters.
And so I surrendered.
Watched the curls fall. Cried at the thought, smiled in the moment.
Reminded myself he is a HSP too.
Remembered all the times I had long flowing blonde hair and when I felt defined by it, would cut it all off. Pixie cut.
When Chloe was four she also asked to shave her head and without any hesitation we let her. There is such freedom in being able to fly as yourself. Removed from definitions of beauty, you start to see your wings.
Yep, looking at those pictures from this morning and then seeing the now, there is my baby turning into a little boy.