I swear I’ve become a blog post writing machine lately! After starting my new (ish) job, and launching PW Branding and Design, I was pretty burnt out, and constantly sleepy (still am…), but with a bit of planning, I’ve got into the rhythm of keeping up this little blog amidst all the other madness.
Anyway, as some of you may know, last year I decided to cut off most of my hair. Let me start off by saying, it was not thought out.
I was literally walking in a mall on a Friday evening, and I was like, “hey, your hair is heavy af, you have nothing to lose, a pixie cut would be fun.” By midday Saturday, I was sporting a much shorter cut. I shit you not, between the time of the decision making and the actual cut was less than 24 hours.
To say that I hated it when I had it cut is a plain old lie. It felt good to have shed away all the hair that had been my veil of security for so many years. See, my whole life, I had felt like I was surrounded by so many beautiful women, and I was the tomboy. But I always had decent long, thick and straight hair. That was the one thing I was always complimented on, so it became that the only way I felt beautiful was to have long hair that was set to perfection, and I didn’t care that it gave me endless headaches and took hours in my day to set. Until I had enough, and that pixie was a result. I felt pretty good leaving the salon. Until the next day, when people started to question my sexuality and blatantly tell me that I didn’t look good. The funny thing was, i hadn’t even asked a single one of them how they felt about hair that wasn’t on their heads, but apparently, people seem to think their opinions on someone else’s appearance matters (hint: it doesn’t). Then I ended up in a relationship when I wasn’t really expecting to be in one. At first, I was told my hair didn’t matter, but then started the comments that he liked me better with long hair (and no tattoos). All this combined negativity really left me hating my appearance. I started to hate what I saw in the mirror. So I started the long and frustrating process of growing my hair out, not because of what I wanted, but to stop hearing all the negativity.
Needless to say, the people who were so negative about how I looked eventually fell away from my life, and I was back to a bob cut. Long hair, and I just didn’t feel like me. I had felt so much like me when I left the salon that day, before everyone told me how I should look. That was what led me to go back to a salon a month ago. My confidence has built this year, which has been a long and tough road. This time, I took a few weeks to make up my mind and decide if my self esteem was ready for the inevitable mean comments from people, and only when I was sure that it was, I took the plunge. This time, I love my hair. This is me, with fuss free hair. As a woman working full time and running her own business and trying to graduate, it’s a relief to have hair that’s good to go in a few minutes each day. People still make annoying comments, but it doesn’t really bother me that much because I know what’s good for me now. I’m enough for myself, and anyone who wants to be in my life needs to accept that.
I hope that if there’s anything you wanna do, you have the courage to do it, in spite of anyone else’s opinions.
Your pixie haired girl,