The journey with my hair began about two years ago? Around October/November of 2015 and it ended September 2, 2017.
What journey, you didn’t ask?
I had a really huge problem with vanity. What I mean about this is, I hated myself. I was often called pretty and cute growing up. It was the worst thing for a child who wanted to be smart and capable because all others could talk about me was how cute I was. Nothing else I did seemed to matter to the adults. So, rather than feel proud of being beautiful, I began to hate it. Then the hate for it, I turned to myself.
When I took my indefinite break from university, the first things I did was 1. re-evaluate what was important to me and 2. understand why I was filled with anger and hate. My hair was one of the things that #2 pointed out.
I used to love my hair growing up. It was straight like my mom’s and I had nothing from my mom. I looked very much like that of my father’s side of the family and I didn’t like him all too much. But then, I lost the straight hair yet people still kept calling me pretty and cute. I was as smart and reliable like my other siblings yet I was still pretty and cute. Why was that?
At some point, I told myself, if pretty is what they wanted, pretty they’ll get. I cared too much about how I looked. I was always trying to look better but then I got tired.
So, I eventually stopped trying with everything. I ate whatever I wanted to eat. I didn’t care about what I looked like. I look like a boy? Okay, whatever. I look like I didn’t shower? So what. My hair took the brunt of my carelessness in my late teens and early “adulthood”.
Aside from gaining really unhealthy body fat, my hair was turned to tumbleweed. Whenever I went to the salon, the hairdresser would always say, “Oh, your hair is dry and brittle.” It was embarrassing because I’d stopped caring about myself.
To take care of me, I took care of my hair. After my hair, my diet followed. After my diet, I started exercising and meditating. It was a lot more convoluted than this in reality but I’ve finally reached the end of my hair journey.
I love my hair now and I love looking at myself. I don’t see pretty or cute. I see healthy and most of all, I see myself.
I didn’t cut my hair for a year. I had trimmed the first three months in. Then again after six months by mom. Just a simple straight cut. Then, I started to trim it myself. I grew it
so long, I can actually donate a chunk of my beautiful healthy hair for those who want it. That part really makes me happy.
I went from having long hair and a bunch of self-hatred to short hair and a bunch of self-love. The incredible journey of me is in that chunk of hair I will be donating. The love, care, and consideration I gave myself were made physical.
How amazing is that?