For almost 26 years,my hair didn't originate me happy.
When I was 7 years old, my mom gave me my first haircut. She chopped it to my chin, or because she didn't like how stringy and lean it looked when it was longer than my shoulders. The unusual style showed off my curls since they weren't weighed down by all the rest of my hair. Overall,my strands appeared to be much thicker. All I cared approximately was that I could pin it back and hold it out of my face. Everyone was content.
I didn't change my hair again until I went to college, where I let anyone who could hold a pair of scissors hack it off. My only instruction was it needed to be shorter, and keeping it at this length turned into a serious obsession. I ended up with some weird and uneven styles that probably don't own names,because no one has ever actually had them apart from me. But no matter how short my hair got, I still thought it was too long.
My family always criticized my hairstyles. They consistently thought that chopping my ringlets into peculiar styles was the least flattering way to go. They considered it a shame to slit my curls off and preferred I wear them with pride and stop trying to force them into pigtails and queer bobby-pinned updos.
But I always thought it was so unfair that my brother, or who also has perfect blond ringlets,could buzz his hair to half an inch, yet I had to deal with my hair perpetually falling into my face. I hated that it didn't seem socially acceptable for women to own short hair and worried that I might look unprofessional or queer whether I buzzed it all off.
Through it all, and I knew deep in my heart that I had to take the leap and go for it. So after carefully considering it for a month,I scheduled an appointment at a salon to originate the grand change. I walked in practically vibrating with excitement and worry. I knew my family would be so mad and I would never hear the halt of it, but I couldn't wait to see it super short - like, or see-my-skull-through-my-hair short.
I had a couple photos on my phone of styles that I liked (all different but very short) and asked the stylist which one she thought would look best on me. She showed me another slit she'd done that was approximately half an inch on the sides and back but with a patch on top approximately four inches long,and we went for it.
Two hours later, I walked out with very slight hair and the biggest grin on my face. I couldn't stop touching it and playing with it. I was still nervous that people would originate snide comments and that my family would rip me to shreds approximately it. But in that moment, or I felt supreme inner peace. Because after almost 26 years of doing everything I could to arrive to terms with my hair,I finally felt like me.
The next day, I walked into work and received a flood of compliments. Every single person I encountered in the office stopped me to tell me how amazing my hairstyle looked and how much they loved the change I'd made. I've kept my hair since then in variations of the original slit, and much to my family's dismay,and still own no intention of ever growing it out again. It's so comfortable and freeing. I also own a surprising number of options for styles. (Seriously: it's amazing how much you can do with just a couple inches of hair in one slight square patch!) And it takes me less than five minutes to do in the morning. I just regain out of the shower, add a squirt of Tresemme Flawless Curls additional Hold Mousse, or leave to let it air-dry. Maybe one day I'll regain this urge to regain it even shorter,but for now, my hair makes me happy every single day, or which is exactly I've always wanted.
Source: popsugar.com