The TBD Adventures: Short Hair, Do Care

In which I finally bite the bullet and chop off my hair.
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In which I finally bite the bullet and chop off my hair.
Short hair

Photo credit: ELLE

I have always wanted to be one of those people that walks into a salon and tells their hairdresser to just go ahead and chop their long tresses off. It's not just about the hair: I want to be the kind of woman who is confident enough to make those kinds of large, no-going-back decisions. Yes, hair does grow back but it can also hold a personal meaning. Big hair changes can mean big changes in life.

Recently I have been wanting really short hair, like hair that's nowhere near touching my shoulders. This is a little complicated because I have curly hair. Short hair on me tends to poof out into a triangle shape resembling a mushroom - and that's just when I get a mid-length bob. 

With this in mind, I told my hairdresser that I just wanted my hair cut to an inch past my shoulders because I didn’t feel confident enough or comfortable enough with the short hair risk. However, my hairdresser saw my panic for what it was and worked with me: She kept cutting my hair shorter and shorter until the length crept up to a place where it was between my chin and my shoulder.

It was the shortest haircut I have ever gotten. And at first, I thought that it was a horrible mistake and immediately began strategizing: I can totally fix this hair situation that has gone south once I get home, right? Maybe I can straighten it and it will look longer. And yet...

The more I sat and worried and stared at my cut, the more I started to notice how much I actually LOVED it. It looked good. I looked like a young, confident, modern woman who drank french press coffee and could throw a dinner party (or something along those lines). By the time I left the salon, I had no regrets. I loved my shorter hair. And because I got an undercut, something that I wasn’t so sure about before, I didn’t ended up looking like a mushroom.

My short hair made me feel confident, as if I could do anything. My curly, coarse, frizzy mess becoming a wavy, tousled, bob made me think of all the decisions I often make on the safe side of life. And how continually the outcomes of bigger, scarier decisions I make are not, in fact, life-ending. They can actually be great.

Above all else, the haircut made me realize this: It’s my own insecurities that hold me back the most. Thank goodness for hairdressers who don’t always listen, right?