I went to the salon without a comb.

About 3 weeks ago, I went to the salon but not with my cutting comb or hair cream and attachments as I usually do but with a clipper. It was a decision that I thought through but it was sudden for a lot of people around me.

I remember the expression on my dad’s face when he came back home to see that I was on low cut and it was dyed. The facial expression was in-between confusion and slight anger.

Well I’m sorry but I didn’t feel apologetic about my new hair because I thought I was grown enough to make decisions that pertain myself. For many years I realised I was overly attached to my hair and I thought it defined me to be very honest.

So when I clocked twenty I decided that I was going to be making some bold girl moves and life changing decisions. I honestly thought I was going to be crying and asking for my mother while all my hair was coming off as I stared at myself in the mirror but I didn’t.

I felt free. Sometimes freedom comes from the littlest things. I go to the bathroom to wash my hair in the night or anytime I feel uncomfortable now and I’ve never felt more relieved.

The decision of cutting my hair was actually made somewhere between making my birthday hair and visiting the hospital frequently recently.

When I made my birthday hair, it was pretty but I was in pain. The first two days I couldn’t lay my hair on the pillow well when I wanted to sleep, I couldn’t laugh, I couldn’t eat without feeling some type of way so in my mind I said “fuck it, I’m taking this hair down”.

I also realised how attached I was to my hair. All the money I had to spend constantly, all the times I had to sit at the salon and wait for my turn. I had never cut my hair before not even when I was a baby. All fingers were pointing at my hair.

It honestly felt like all problems and all the wrong turns in my life were telling me my hair was the cause of the problems. Generally I was tired and I really felt like I was spiralling down the dark hole of depression. So I took one of the clippers at home and my mum took me to a barbing salon.

It was a really long journey for me. I didn’t know what it felt like to be without my hair. I was the type of person that had almost everyone commenting on my hair so I felt like I was nothing without it. I always felt like my beauty was my hair and nothing else.

While I was in secondary school, I remember anticipating every Friday evening. It meant we could leave our hair out when going for evening prep. That was the only day I knew I had the confidence to walk through the walkways and not feel intimidated. As I matured though I realised it didn’t have to be that way. I realised I could go through those walkways everyday and be confident if I wanted to be. I understood what the phrase “I’m not my hair” meant.

For so many years I think most women were assumed to be their hair. Once a woman isn’t with her hair, you’ll see people asking questions like “did someone die?” “Are you sick or something”. Some people even tag you an irresponsible woman for not keeping your hair but women are a lot more than their hair. We are beautiful with or without the hair and we can be whatever we want to be as long as we are in our body.

Lol sorry if I sound motivational, I’m listening to Donny Hathaway’s “Someday we’ll all be free” and I actually believe we would.

So if you want to cut your hair but you are living in the moment I’ll advise you not to. It’s a decision you might end up regretting and we don’t want that. Just make sure it’s what you want before you decide to do it. This is where I’ll be stopping for today so see you next time. Don’t forget to subscribe to this blog so you can be notified the next time I post. Please drop your likes and comments too so I can know you enjoyed reading this. Thank you.

7 Comments

  1. I prolly didn’t want to ask you but thank God I know now😭,I was worried about you on low cut cos I loved your hair,but it’s making more sense now😆, don’t be shocked when you see me on low cut too tho cos I am tired too😭

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s