First I would like to apologize if some of what I write in this post comes off as offensive. It is not meant to hurt or anger anyone.
And now I’m going to cut to the chase. This particular little rant is all about hair.
“You can take my life… but you can’t take my hair!”
Throughout history, legend and into the real contemporary world, hair has held a lot more meaning than a bunch of dead cells on top of our heads. Oftentimes people get so attached to their hair that cutting or changing it becomes something almost traumatic to them. I remember well when my mum cut a huge chunk off my hair once, and I moped about it for days. Even worse when she cut one of my brother’s hairs. He would flinch as if in pain and sometimes cry. Did you ever notice that most guys with long hair have it long not because they’re too lazy to cut it but because they are so strangely attached to their hair? I wonder why long hair is a bigger deal for a guy than for a girl. After all in a hunter/gatherer society the longer the hair the more unpractical, since it could get caught in branches, blown into your face and block your view, inhibit your movements etc. So according to logic men should wish to strive for shorter hair instinctively, yet to some the longer the more status.
One hairdo says more than a thousand words.
Just as with clothes and make-up, hair is a very important statement in who we are. It can tell the world “I really don’t care what I look like” or “I’m too busy to have time for anything but a pony-tail” or “my hair is my helmet. It makes me feel safe and shielded from the world”. Also, some guys have this amazing ability to scream “I’m a douchebag!” simply with their hairstyle! And here’s something I have noticed (I am very sorry if I offend anyone by saying this, it’s not meant to offend, it’s simply a speculation); lots of lesbians have a tendency to wear their hair short. It sort of doesn’t make any sense to me because if you’re attracted to girls then why would you want to look more like the stereotypical guy? It just doesn’t make sense to me when someone says “guys suck so much that I am not interested in having a relationship with them” and then go and do your best to look like one (and I’m referring to more than just the hair here). However, there might be other reasons behind this that I am completely unaware of and I’m sure this is very ignorant of me. Just something that’s been boggling me. Just as how some girls try to grow their hair as long as possible because they don’t think they look feminine without it that way. I think you should have your hair in a style that makes you feel comfortable and you think looks good on you, and not as some kind of statement. Words are for making statements.
We have Sampson and Rapunzel. For both of them their hair was a source of strength and symbolized something much more than it just being there. For Rapunzel it was a means of escape and freedom, and also what made her special. For Sampson, it was his actual strength, and without it he became powerless. What does this say about us? What does that say about my little sister who was so shy when she was little that she grew her bangs super-long so they could cover her eyes? Her hair became a shield and the day that she proudly cut them off (and made my mom freak out because well, it really did look like a 7 year old cut it) was the day she shed that shield and was comfortable with being seen in the world. Many many years later the younger one of my brothers cut his hair – surely after some persuasion from his fashion-savvy girlfriend – and with the hair gone I saw a bit more confidence in him. It was like he started walking straighter and smiling brighter. So for some, a haircut is losing what feels safe. For others it’s a way to be able to open up to the world and feel more free and comfortable with themselves.
According to me…
My hair wasn’t always curly. I remember well how fascinated I was when this one lock close to my face started becoming wavy. I think I was about 8 or 9? Then slowly and with the years the rest of it curled up and it turned into this mass of large waves. Even though it was difficult to take care off and often more of a hassle than something I was grateful for, it was also something people associated with me. I never did anything to it till August last year when I dyed it red (I’m a brunette naturally). After that I went kind of crazy and tried to go blonde but failed mildly and it became some sort of dirty brown-blond that I around Christmas turned into a chocolate-brown and now it’s slowly faded back to my natural color. I decided I didn’t want to dye it again, it was fun to try but a try was all there was too it (to be honest I’m too lazy to maintain my appearance that much). And then last night, something I’ve wanted for the longest time happened. My lovely and dear friend Sarah agreed to cut it for me (Thank you so much!). And not just a trim. My masses of hair that had previously fallen to well past my shoulders now tumbled to the floor and got transformed into a straight bob cut with bangs. Very far from the way it looked when I let it do its own thing. Very light, relieving, perfect summer hair and I only need a quarter of the hair conditioner I would use before. The transformation feels very significant, like I can be a new person with this new look, and yet it’s just hair. It’s just removing and reshaping a bunch of dead cells on top of my head.