The Haircut Story

I was 10 when I went in for my first hair cutting experience, before this I had straight hip length hair that my mother used to trim for me. I sunk into the big red chair, making funny faces at the fancy mirror in front of me. The lady hair stylists comes and stands behind me trying to tame my unruly thick black hair. My mom keeps prompting suggestions, ‘something that is comfortable’, ‘manageable’, ‘no loose strands of hair that would disturb her vision’ and so on. The lady then utters words that affected me for the most part of my life. She said I had a huge forehead that makes me look like a man, so bangs would be the only option to make me look pretty.

So bangs it was. Which by the way dear hair stylist lady, is definitely not pretty!!!
So bangs it was. Which by the way dear hair stylist lady, is definitely not pretty!!!

And this was probably the first time I actually started to look at my physical self, judging my body, comparing it to others. I was neglecting what was right and over criticizing what was wrong in my body. Next 9 or so years went in analysing my physical self trying to look ‘acceptable’. Hoping for a day that I would like myself or at least come to terms with the way I Iook.

You would find it ridiculous but I have never ever tried any other haircut ever since. My hair either had nothing done to them or were in some kind of bangs. I evolved from the full thick bangs to a side bang but the forehead was always hidden from people’s scrutiny, or so I thought! A few months ago I realized how damaged my self respect is. Yes my forehead is huge but how is it ugly?

Furthermore, do only my physical features have all the responsibility to make me look pretty? nah uh, Beauty must runs deeper than that! I am pretty when my words make people smile. I am pretty when I am working on a sculpture and I have clay stains on my clothes. I am pretty when I laugh and choke at my own jokes. I am pretty when I am singing a Hannah Montanah song on top of my voice. Basically I am pretty when I am in love with myself.

Now I am trying to grow my bangs out, I have been wearing hairstyles that would make my forehead look people in the eye. I still would adjust my bangs to fall on my face while clicking a selfie. But I am getting stronger each day. I feel I am slowly snatching away the power of my beauty from that hair stylist and bestowing the responsibility to someone safer, myself.
I am not sure what I want to say through this week’s post, I guess I just want to console young people who are insecure about their bodies. Please do not let anybody else decide how to love yourself. Your body is fine, it defines who you are and equally so, does your soul. Different is not a synonym of ugly. Embrace who you are physically and work on what you are spiritually.

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