I Lose Myself

"If you'd asked me five years ago, I never would've thought I'd leave Ireland one day. Scratch that, if you'd asked me one year ago, I never would've thought it. Maybe even six months ago. I've never been the most spontaneous of people, which is why this is so strange for me. I was leading a happy life. I had family and friends. I had a job. But then an unexpected opportunity arose, one I would've normally refused on the spot. Why, you ask? Because I'm Alison Pigeon. Plain old Alison. I don't take risks. I follow the same old routine every day, and I'm content with it. Change is something I've always hated, just ask my mother. I threw a tantrum every time she bought me a new outfit. I'm a hairdresser. I've wanted to be one ever since I was a little girl, which is ironic considering I myself hated having my hair cut. But since the wee age of three I've been chopping off my dolls' hair (the first few times I cried—I couldn't quite grasp the concept that the hair wouldn't grow back), and since the age of ten I've been declaring how I wanted to cut real people's hair. And so I did. I went to beauty school and I'm pretty good at it now, if I must say so myself. I've at least improved since the days of toddling around with a pair of safety scissors in my hand, anyways."