My Hair

Growing up, I looked like Dora. I had the tan, the round shaped face, and the short bob. The only thing missing was having a monkey as a best friend. I had a bob cut for most of my younger years. My mom didn’t want to manage my long hair because I hated getting my hair brushed or washed, so she dealt with my hair until I was old enough. 

When I was ten, I finally had control over my hair, and that’s when I decided to grow it as long as I could. Like many other kids, I used to think that guys were supposed to have short hair and girls had long hair. Because kids used to bully me for my short hair, I felt like I wasn’t girly enough, so I developed a need to be as feminine as possible. I started growing it out so that I could fit in with the rest of the girls in my class. I saw their beautiful braids and the different ponytail styles. I desperately wanted to be one of the girls like in the Disney Channel TV shows with friends and shenanigans; I needed to grow my hair. 

So I did. I grew it for eight years without getting any major haircuts, only trims for my split ends. I loved my hair. In middle school, almost everyday I had a different hairstyle. I felt like I could be one of those girls with all the friends and drama.  I took a lot of pride in my hair. Every morning, I would stand in front of my mirror and play with my hair. It was an extension of myself; and made me feel pretty and feminine. I became dependent on my hair for my self-confidence. I thought without my long hair, I wouldn’t be the same person. 

By the time I was a senior in high school, my hair went down to my butt. I bragged about it constantly with my  friends because I always had the longest hair in my friend group. I had become known for my long hair. I thought to myself, there’s no way I could ever cut my hair, even if I wanted to. The history of my hair and all the moments of my life that my long hair went through meant a lot to me. 

All of sudden though,, in the middle of my senior year, I felt like my hair was a burden. I no longer felt like myself with my long hair. I would put it in up in a bun, no matter what. I didn’t want to deal with the washing or brushing. It felt like a chore, and I hated it. I told myself that I would cut my hair right before college. I wanted to start over and be someone new; I no longer wanted to be the girl with the long hair. 

Finally, when I cut my hair,I truly felt like myself. I thought the short hair suited me. I used to think that having long hair was the only way to be feminine and beautiful and be likeable, but as I stood there, looking in the mirror, I had never felt more feminine or beautiful or like myself.