Six months ago my barber told me my haircut doesn't suit me.

He said I should try growing it out. I told him this is the longest I've ever had it. He said: try it. Don't cut it for six months. Worst case, we go back to what you have now.

I sat in the car after and thought, why not? What actually happens? I look like a homeless person for six months? Maybe. But maybe I end up with the hair I always wanted to try.

It's been annoying. Hair sticking out everywhere. I shower in the morning now because of bed hair. I bought a leave-in conditioner, a product I never used in my life. Small adjustments just to make the thing work.

And six months later, I actually like it. I'm not going back to what I had before. And if I changed my mind tomorrow, I could fix it in one afternoon.

That's the whole math of a small bet. The downside was one haircut. The upside is the long hair I always wanted but never believed I could have. I'd written it off years ago because I thought I had the wrong kind of hair for it: too coarse, too stubborn to ever sit right.

People seem afraid to make these bets, afraid to change anything about their life, like every change is permanent. Most of them aren't. You can usually go back exactly where you started. If the new path doesn't work, you take one step back.

The barber knew this. He didn't sell me a new haircut. He sold me a reversible experiment.