Hair and There
March 28, 2019It's been a while since I featured an archived post of mine from old blogs but since it's Thursday, I thought to do this #Throwbackthursday post featuring this post about that one chapter in my life I had short hair!
This was a post from three years back to when I experienced probably one of the worst heartbreaks of my life. I guess the "heartbreak haircut" is real! Yet, re-reading this old post reminded me that it isn't just snipping my locks out of hurt but preparing myself for big change. Enjoy :)
Hair and There
3/20/2016
The most liberating feeling I’ve felt was the moment clumps of hair fell to the ground. Gone was the girl with long brown hair that flowed in waves reminiscent of the sea salt on hair after a day in the beach. She disappeared the moment blades kissed her hair–she probably disappeared even before that as barbed wire covered her heart more when he broke it again. The mountain of hair forming beneath the salon chair means I am free from all the personal baggage I once had. Not only were my own gone, but also the baggage he left me with before he took the easy flight out from my life. The swift movement of steel scissors makes a sound upon touching my hair, reminding me that there would be change soon…
And I’ll be okay.
Never have I ever looked so light–and even felt like it. I don’t look as grim and dark anymore. My shoulders felt weird because it suddenly felt the wind better; I never even noticed air blew my way! For me, it felt like for the longest time I was suffocating for the lack of oxygen here on land…or maybe drowning in way too much of it along with hydrogen if it were the waters. Odd as it sounds, but it was as if I was recharged and renewed. It surprised me that I would be conscious enough to want to cut my hair that short, but it will only raise higher up…
The first haircut was for loss: losing everything that I thought was important and dear to me. The second and most recent one is for gain: the self-love and self-confidence I started to acquire again. This change was for me to be better. It was for me to not be afraid of risks. This hair I have now is shorter and a bit edgier; a far cry from the girly Rapunzel locks I sported my whole life and the long bob that seemed more sophisticated. A far cry from the hair I kept long for men who loved it. If long hair was the hand gesture that tells you to come closer and lures you in with the stereotypical feminine attractiveness, my short hair is the big FUCK YOU sign to that conformity, then.
Once in a while, I do miss the long hair. But do I ever regret going through two major chops in less than a span of two months? Not even. Hair grows from loss just like we all do. It’s involuntary and we cannot help it and it’s inevitable. It’s only natural. It will keep growing until we have more dead cells to shave off and embrace another change in our lives.
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