I do not I do not Regret Cutting My Long Hair Really Short (This Time)
Growing up, I’ve always associated hair with status. My mother was adamant about combing my hair each and every morning into braids topped with barrettes and ribbons. I might hear a comb snap every now and then from getting caught in tangles, but my mother insisted on styling it. Her baby had “good” hair — hair that was slightly wavy, not too kinky, soft and greased to perfection. My cousin would lament on how I didn’t have to worry about having “nappy” hair and my mom took every opportunity to inform family members just how beautiful her daughter’s long hair was. Over time, I’ve sat by the stove while my grandma pressed my hair straight, gotten burned by chemicals found in PCJ relaxer, sang to the tunes of Only for Me ads and dealt with breakage after many attempts to go natural.
The one thing that has remained constant: my glorious length. Now, I didn’t have hair down to my waist but it was always a fairly decent length hitting my shoulders. My family always equated long hair with being beautiful, so the thought of short hair has never crossed my mind.
My hair care regimen was one that focused on maintaining flowing locks. I measured and rejoiced when i finally hit bra-strap length. But in 2006, I got a bob haircut before it became the “Rihanna bob” and decided I looked hideous. I swore off short hair, deeming it something other people did because pretty girls have long, straight hair.
So once i recently stepped out of the salon with a cool 90 percent of my hair chopped off, I was not only shocked but slightly fearful of how my mom would react. The minute I saw my strands slide over my shoulder and onto the bottom, I knew there was no turning back.
Why the 180-degree turn Who knows! Maybe it was a conversation this summer with fellow beauty girls. Apparently I had the “face” for brief hair. Or perhaps it was because I was dealing with damage, trying to transition and had no clue where to show. The considered a much shorter look became intriguing and off I went, pinning images for inspiration and searching up “black women with pixie cuts” on Google.
Decision day came and that i went with inspiration photos stored on my phone to my stylist, who tried her perfect to convince me otherwise. “Mami, tu pelo est nice. Why cut it off ” Sorry Yesenia, this was something I’ve committed to.
With every snip came a question, a moment of doubt. Remember that point Aunty Nadine cut her hair and it never grew back Why do you need to do away with what makes you so pretty My mother’s voice swam through my head — would she hate it Also, what about my dating life I’ve always gone after guys who loved long hair, so was I now ugly My first tweet (which was released while I was still on the mercy of the hair shears) was “I seem like a boy.” That doubt was real, and I used to be certain I’d hate the final look. I cussed and sank into my chair.
By the point she was done, I did not need to look up but when i did, I believe the shock was apparent. There, in front of the identical stylist I have been going to for eight years, I looked like a new me. I loved it! I’ve cheekbones! Did my neck get longer I walked around Brooklyn with pride. Gone were the insecurities and I actually felt liberated. Nothing to hide behind.
It’s amazing how much something as small as hair can impact your attitude. Why are we so connected to something that grows back as quickly as you may cut it And if it will hair mask for damaged hair homemade not grow, slap on some extensions!
Should you told me a year ago I would not have the hair I’ve always known, I would have laughed in your face. Now I do not even want to return and am even contemplating super pixie — more like Rihanna late 2012.
Oh, and my mom She’s getting used to it. She said, “You did not even have this short amount of hair if you were born!” And she even called me pretty the opposite day. Who would’ve thought
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