Hair is never a big deal for me. But it does have a big role in my life. Over the year, I've been cutting my hair for different reasons. Mostly because I'm bored. Sometimes, it holds deeper meaning behind.
Back in 2015, I cut my hair right after I finished my thesis defence. I cut my curly beautiful shinny waist long hair to a shoulder lenght bob. At first I didn't feel anything, but 30 minutes later, a wave of shock started to hit my shore. It was so short, the shortest I'd been in 4.5 years. And I felt like I lost something. Then I remembered why in the first place I got a haircut: to take charge of my life. I was nervous. It was consider a very bold move, because my mother made it really clear that "I better maintain my beautiful long hair", I look more feminine that way. But as a 21 years old girl who about to taste the bitter sweet of real life after college, I believed I entitle to make the call: long or short hair. That moment, I decide that I can style my hair however I like and it has to represent who I am.
The change was necessary, at least for me. I think I always mark a momentum with something that I know will stay with me, like my hair, so I can remember what I want to achieve in the future. I actually think about a tattoo too but, I don't have the guts to make one. Well, not yet. Haha.
I thought a lot about why that hair cut was a revelation for me. Then I went back to the last 4.5 years, to those confusing years. Years I spent questioning and loosing my way. Years I felt so alone, like never before. I tried so so hard to chase happiness that I forgot what happiness was in the first place. Then I tried so hard to define happiness and got lost in translation. I think those years is the perfect visualisation of young, dumb and confused. No, it should be young, dumb, confused and greedy haha. At the end, I decided that I needed to graduate as fast as I could. I needed to get out of the cage and saw the world with my own eyes, widen my horizon. I needed to go slow, one question at the time. Beside, I had all the time in the world, what's the hurry?
One thing I remember clearly about that day I cut my hair short: I felt so relieve. My head felt so light. When I looked in the mirror, I felt like I was finally finding another piece of myself. I felt a little braver. And happy. I felt like half of my burden and my problem was got cut along with the hair. I felt like tearing down the wall between who I thought I was and who I aspired to be. The thought of my mother's reaction was probably the last thing I remember after the cut. I just felt like at that time, I celebrated myself.
After that moment, I cut my hair several times. I like super short bob so much, so easy to maintain and styled. I questioned myself on how I survived 4 freakin' years with waist long hair because it's a lot of hassle, compared to my sweet short bob. But well, every haircut has its own glory. I used to love that curly long hair so much, before I let it go for good.
Now I decide to grow back my hair. I guess I miss having long hair so I can braid it into piggy tails. Or, it's probably the season for me to embrace part of myself that I secretly scared of: young, dumb, confused and greedy. Or probably, I just want to practice my patience by growing it back waist lenght. Whatever my true reason is, I believe I will enjoy the ride. I'm too old to make a big fuss of a bad hair cut. I'll make it work, somehow.
But if you know me, you probably know it's always about a little bit of everything, here and there ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment