I swear it had probably been a year of me going back and forth, asking my friends if I should do it or not. Take the plunge. Cut the cord. Chop the hair… I just felt so ‘blah’ most of the time because I hadn’t changed my look up in a hot minute. The last drastic change I had made was cutting bangs — big whoopty-do. And before THAT was punching another hole in my ear. Whoo!
So I would read blog posts titled something along the lines of Are You Ready to Cut the Mane? and I personally would check off on most of the things that lead to a solid — NO. It wasn’t until I had told a friend of mine, “I think it’s time to chop,” to which she replied, “but it’s so beautifulllllll.” While that’s the sweetest compliment, my thoughts were more centered towards ‘But what about me as a person? What about my soul? Or my personality or my essence? Aren’t I enough?’ I went through this feeling when I had acne problems, but this time I took it too far and overboard lol.
I was in Armenia at the time of this need of change, and was actually having a great hair day (I feel like this happens right before I’m supposed to wash it), but I had gotten out of volunteering when I walked straight into the hair salon in the parking lot of my grandparents’ apartment. I asked the lady, who doesn’t normally cut my hair, if my regular stylist was there. She said it was her day off, so I asked if she, herself, cuts hair to which she replied, ‘yes of course.’ Imagine wanting a change so bad that you settle with someone you don’t even know if you can trust.
She asked if I was sure that I wanted to cut my hair, and I vexingly reassured, “yes, and please don’t try to talk me out of it because I’m honestly tired of people doing that.” So she was up for the part, which got me excited. Mind you, I had told no one that I was gonna do it, so my grandparents had no idea and their reactions are generally very straight-forward and blunt. We cut the hair and I had NO regrets at all. The only thing I kept feeling was the shock of not being able to tie it all up. My grandpa immediately said that he liked long hair better, and I couldn’t be more unphased. My grandma changed her mind a few times during the week on whether or not it suited me. It had become more of a social experiment at that point, and it was amusing getting people to react so passionately about something that doesn’t affect them whatsoever. I’ll still have people showing me pictures of me with long hair and telling me they liked that better — only this time I didn’t ask.
I’m now having fun with my hair growing out and going through different lengths and styles. This was an attempt at trying not to take life too seriously and not putting an emphasis on the superficial aspects.
When was the last time you changed something because you wanted to despite what others had to say about it?