I cut my hair. Nope, not just the tips. ALL OF IT.
Actually I didn’t intend on having my long locks lie helplessly on the ground the way they did. My hairdresser simply got too loose with her scissors and my hair paid the price for it. Now you may be wondering. How did you let this happen !?
Well, I thought she was gonna do layers like I asked her to, but she only did one layer–ending at my neck. I kept waiting for her to stop cutting my hair so short and move onto the next layer, but that moment never came. So I just accepted it. “Eh,” I thought, “It’s about time I try something new.”
I convinced myself that I liked it and for a few minutes I did—that is, until I faced my family.
You see, here in Colombia the ideal woman is the woman with long locks (accompanied with a flat stomach, big booty, and a big bust). So when I walked in, my family looked at me in horror.
“Whyy?” they all asked, “your hair was so beautiful!”
I acted as if this is what I wanted all along. I didn’t want to explain why I didn’t protest to the hairdresser; I just wanted to accept the fact that my hair was gone and move on with it. I told myself I didn’t care and for a few minutes I didn’t.
When my grandma saw me, her face crinkled in disgust. She leered at me from across the room and shook her head in disappointment. The little confidence that I had left started to wither away and my eyes started holding back tears. Thank god I was able to hold those suckers in until I found myself alone.
When I was out of sight, my tears instantly poured out. I never felt more hideous in my life. I cursed scientists for not inventing time machines. I cursed the hairdresser. I cursed myself for caring so much about what people think. I cursed my self-esteem for being so damn low.
Right then and there my mom and uncle found me at my lowest. They were one of the few people that actually liked my hair and that made me feel a little better. I decided to look at myself in the mirror again (although I was scared to) and my hair wasn’t as hideous as I remembered. It was actually kind of cute. So for now, I’m a little less sad about my hair being gone.
But who knows how I’ll feel about my hair tomorrow.