I did it.
I chopped my hair off.
Okay, so it isn’t the first time. I got this fabulous bowl cut when I was in preschool. My best friend was a boy, and I wanted to look like him. I asked him to cut my hair, and, good buddy that he was, he complied. Our mothers cried, I’m sure I did too! It was a disaster. This might have been the first time that I got the idea that short hair was bad. Not pretty. After all, I got in trouble for cutting it. (Not that I blame you, Mom. ;))
I had short hair for quite a while after that, but it wasn’t long before I came to the realization that pretty girls had long hair. Boys liked girls with long hair. That was just how it worked.
So, I grew out my hair. It was long and I felt pretty.
Samson’s hair made him strong, my hair made me beautiful. Honestly, some days it felt like it was the only thing that did. For most of my life I have felt like my level of beauty was directly correlated with the length of my hair. So I hid behind it. I was just another girl with long hair.
I remember moving to Los Angeles and having multiple people tell me I should cut it, it was too long. One acting teacher even said to me, “I don’t get your hair. It tells me nothing about you.” In my mind I was thinking, “doesn’t it tell you I’m pretty?” So I kept hiding. But I started noticing that I was hiding, and it didn’t feel good.
Well, I have been shouting from the rooftops that I am brave… And this “situation” with my hair got to the point where I felt like I needed to prove it to myself. I needed to cut my hair.
This might not seem like a big deal, but it was huge for me. At this point, I had been a long-haired girl for more than a decade. It felt like it was a part of my identity, the thing that made me me. But I needed to prove to myself that my beauty didn’t come from my hair. I needed to prove to myself that beauty (physical beauty) wasn’t the most important thing in my life. So, I took the leap…
It’s been over a month now, and this draft has been sitting here waiting to be finished. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to write all of these feelings down. Part of me is embarrassed by being so attached to my hair, part of me knows there are other girls out there who feel the same way. Part of me is ashamed to admit that there have been days since I made the cut that I have felt less than beautiful because of it, part of me is super proud that I did something different and brave.
Overall, I am enjoying this new look. I don’t know whether I will keep it short or let it grow again. I do know that I like both. Mostly I am enjoying knowing that whether I have short hair or long hair… I am still me.