A Haircut

I have never been attached to my hair. Emotionally attached, that is. I haven’t exactly been kind to it, as I have most definitely neglected basic hygiene on more than one occasion, rarely run a brush through it, and typically just keep it tied in a bun. I have never shied away from trying a new hair style. A dramatic bob, a pixie cut, even a shaved head - I’ve had them all. Until I was 20 years old, I always kept my hair length short, and as every age old story goes, a boy changed that. I met a boy, and suddenly wanted to become girlier. Automatically that meant having longer hair - to me at least. And so it grew. For the past two years, keep in mind I am currently 22 years old, I have grown accustomed to having long, thick hair that falls below my shoulders. Until today.

One of the many benefits of the pandemic and circuit breaker** was that I suddenly had no more excuses to prolong washing my hair, and started to take care of it regularly. I would wash, and condition my hair three times a week. I would even comb my hair everyday. All of this love and attention soon went away once I began going to work. Suddenly, it was exhausting having to wash incredibly long, thick hair and drying it throughly to ensure I did not sleep with it wet - we all know the price of sleeping with wet hair and waking up to an absolute monstrosity. And so, I began to procrastinate. My mother can attest to how well of a procrastinator I am. I would push, and push the gap between the days I washed my hair, and this became my new hair care routine. Rather, lack of hair care routine.

Along with the aforementioned desire to become more girly, I had also decided that I needed to lose some weight. This was in 2019. I was as successful in growing my hair past my shoulders, as I was in losing 35 odd so pounds from then to now. Never had I placed such an importance on how others thought I looked until I started to receive more compliments. I thought nothing of the compliments, until I realized I never used to attract this much attention before. When that thought settled in, that it was only now, in a smaller body, having my hair down, and wearing make up was I being noticed, I suddenly began to fear that if I were to gain weight again, no one would like me as much anymore.

It wasn’t until today, when I cut my hair, and had this series of thoughts:

“It’s so much lighter, and cleaner, what a relief!”

“The poor man who just had to wash that filthy mop of hair, a generous tip is very much needed”

“Oh, it’s quite short”

“Whatever”

“It’ll grow”

“But, what if someone doesn’t like it?”

“That’s dumb, no one’s going to like anyone less because of a haircut”

Bingo.

Just like no one has ever stopped liking someone, or thought less of someone because of their hair style - broad statement, I know, and very idealistic because I am aware of families being torn apart because of a teenager’s decision to shave half their hair, and dye the other half purple. The moral of this being, no meaningful relationship has been affected by a haircut, gaining a few pounds, a piercing…you catch my drift. I emphasize the term meaningful here. This might sound trivial, and small, and silly to most, but for some, this needs to be heard regularly. You are more than how you look. You are so much more than that. Everyone who loves you, and cares for you knows that, and celebrates that.

It took a haircut for me to realize this. And so, I thank my stylist who I lovingly refer to as, Uncle Chew, for helping me remember that I’m more than how I look. It is my body, and I have to be comfortable with it, and living in it. Not the nosy aunt who questions the stretch marks along my arms, not the colleague who recommends I try a juice cleanse, and certainly not any boy who made me feel I needed to change in the first place.

It’s mine. I haven’t exactly been kind to it, but I’m starting to be again. All I can ask for that it continues to stick with me, and love me as it has, even when I haven’t loved it.

I for one am ecstatic to not have to deal with a huge mess of hair every morning now. That reminds me, I should probably find my comb…haven’t seen it in a while…oh well, that’s the benefit of shorter hair, right?