scissors and hair
April, 2022
Before
I got a new haircut. If I chose to let the change of appearance speak for itself, the only thing it would say is: I cut my hair because I wanted to. But I'm a storyteller. Why on earth would I lose the opportunity to tell the compelling contextualization behind this decision? I live for having new things to talk about. Most people won't know the insights anyway. So, dear readers, feel important.
Noticing the effect of time on my body was never enough to keep the custom of looking at myself entertaining. For that reason, I enjoy taking advantage of the smooth aesthetic-alterations available. I'm referring to the practices related to hairstyling, fashion, skincare, nutrition, makeup, etc. The desire of changing my physical appearance has been through phases of complete surrender toward beauty standards the patriarchy was currently trying to sell. Since I don't want to give power or relevance to made-up harmful pretiness ideals, everytime I wish to change something about myself, I seriously ask my conscience: What's the root of this motivation? This is a bridge to a much bigger conversation. Although, I'll not be crossing over this bridge today, but instead, in another article.
In September of 2018, I checked shaving my hair off my bucket list. Previously, I had straightened, dyed and bleached my hair a few times. When perfectly formed curls started to grow out, I became enamored with the practice of embracing my natural hair. That was when I decided to let it grow to the longest length ever. ‘Till my ass.
This commitment opened the doors to an unexplored territory of knowledge: curly hair care. I watched countless YouTube videos on the subject, changed many habits, tried different techniques, asked a lot of advice and bought recommended products. The amount of information was very overwhelming. I got frustrated every time my hair wouldn't turn out the way had I envisioned it. Doing a sleek bun was the way I found to not have to deal with it at all. I'd rather have my hair tied back and well placed than being loose, frizzy and unrefined.
Welcome to April of 2022. My hair ends have been the same survivors for the past, almost, two years. These edges were sad. They needed an euthanasia appointment at a hair salon. The plan of getting a cute trim was table turning. I found myself in a position where it seemed totally absurd to miss the chance of sitting in front of a professional hairdresser with sharp scissors in one hand, comb on the other and not asking for a drastic cut. There was a bit of personal hesitancy happening before I left home and got accommodated on that chair, but my mind was already set. I loved my long hair. On the contrary, dealing with it was too complicated. I already do many difficult things. It didn't make sense to keep that daily struggle for the sake of having a Venus muse gaze.
