My Hair + The Big Snip = A Change

I really love my long, long hair.

  

Alas. Not so much anymore.

 

I hope that someone else will love my long hair now. In the meantime, I'm feeling pretty fabulous.

This morning, I took some time in between brekkie and loads of laundry to snap some photos and mentally prep for The Big Snip. I stood in front of the mirror and looked myself in the eye. Okay. Okay. Okay okay okay. You can do this. You can do it. Breathe. Last night, I took extra care when shampooing and conditioning; I spent more time on it, knowing that I wouldn't be able to pile hair on top of my head like that for a really, really long time. When I brushed it, I did it slowly, first separating my hair into sections and carefully working the tangles out with my fingers. I gently pulled my brush through, looked down and realized that the brush was at my waist and still going through my tresses.

About three years ago, I did the same thing. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, You can do this. Do it for the little girl. (When I was a little girl, I had hair and still, I wanted more of it. I would wear t-shirts and sweaters on my head and pretended that it was all my long, long hair. I even braided the sleeves. Now I'm imagining a little girl with no hair at all. The least I can do is share.) I made a big deal out of it three years ago: I organized a Locks of Love fundraiser at my school; I rounded up a group of girls to cut their hair, two boys to shave their heads, got people from a salon to come in for free, I had music playing, people came by during their lunch hour to watch or donate money and the community paper was there too. This time it was different. I didn't cry, first of all. And I kept it to myself mostly, went to the salon alone and am mailing my hair off to Wigs for Kids without anyone really knowing about it. It feels nice.

A related conversation took place last week that upset me a bit. I mentioned at a meeting that I was getting my hair cut because as a group, we had a lot of fun with my hair at a social once. Someone yelled out, Guess what it's for! and someone else guessed Locks of Love. I wasn't going to correct them and say Wigs for Kids, but for the record, it's going to Wigs for Kids because I donated to Locks of Love last time. The next day, I'm sitting with a guy from the meeting and he mentions that he had no idea my hair was that long until the the night before. That's really good, he said, referring to my donating of hair, It'll look really good on your resume. That's when my eyes bugged out, my jaw dropped and my stomach did a flip-flop. I gave him a pained expression that I hope only could be read as I can't believe you just said that. Look good on my resume? No. Nonononono, not at all. I'm not putting that on my resume - I never will and the stupid thought never even crossed my mind. I don't wish bad things upon this person for thinking this, I just hope that he grows a heart soon.

In any case, it's done. I missed out on my chance to be discovered by Pantene yet again and do a hair commercial for them (by the by, if you know anyone in the industry, tell them it's my lifelong dream and I'll be in touch in about three years - honestly, how do people get discovered for hair commercials anyway?), but this new do is rockin' my knee-high socks. The only challenge will be to make it look as good as the stylist did all by my lonesome self.

(Note to self: Buy a hairdryer*, some mousse**, a round brush and wake up earlier to allow for more tousling time.)

The Big Before & After

 

So, talk about seventeen inches of change. I feel a bit more mature, a touch more confident and a helluva lot lighter. It's almost ironic really, because when I think about it, my self-esteem seemed to reside in my hair. I knew it was beautiful and I knew that it was impressively long and healthy and I knew that I would get compliments when I pulled it out of the bun. People would coo over it and ask if it was natural. I'd flash my smile and say, Yes, it's all me! AND it's virgin. Never been dyed or permed. Upon realizing this, I thought to myself, How awful to have my confidence and esteem trapped under a hair clip. And yet, I think this applies to a lot of people - not that it's a bad thing, but hair just happens to be important in our society. We cut and style and dye it in hopes of capturing and showing off our unique personalities.

I worried about being 'ugly' before I got it cut. I poured through magazines, looked things up on websites and wondered what style would suit me best. I loved my long hair and was nervous to see it go. But now, there's no more hiding behind it. It's gone and I'm still here. I'm all growed up now, more woman than girl, still beautiful and all ready to take everything on. I feel like I just went through some ritual rite of passage. The cutting of the old, dead ends. It's a fresh, sassy start. A bit like a rebirth, really. Remember when I said I was going to dabble in some change? This is just Step One.


Hello, World.


*Yup. I'm female and I don't own a hairdryer. How cool am I?

**Hair products scare me. I didn't even own hairspray until this past Fall.
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