I Lose Myself

By Alison Rodriguez

"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."

• Language: English
• Publisher: wlsbooks
• Release date: Jan 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386103615

Book preview

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.

I haven’t gotten off topic, don’t worry. This all ties in. I’ve been professionally cutting hair for over a decade now. Since I started beauty school I’ve had an end goal in mind: I want to open my own salon. Cutting hair is fun and all, especially if you have good clients, but everyone wants to make something of themselves. So I’ve wanted to own my own place.

Unfortunately, I was finding that specific aspiration rather difficult back home. I couldn’t seem to scrounge up the finances or find a good place to house my salon. The cheapest places didn’t satisfy me, and those were all I could afford.

Then, one day, while surfing the Internet aimlessly, I came across something crazy. An ad for an empty storefront, for sale. Dirt cheap. Most of the places I’ve found were for rent, it’s quite rare to find a place you can own yourself. And the