So, I cut my hair.
For the majority of my life, I’ve had long hair. Long hair is familiar, comfortable, easy, safe. I can wear it down or pull it up and back. It’s what I know, it’s what I do (pun intended).
I’ve always equated long hair with being feminine, with being pretty, with being beautiful. I’m not a girly-girl and I’ve never been overly feminine; so my hair has always been my saving grace, “my crown and glory”, the thing that made me beautiful. Overtime, it’s become a crutch, a hiding place.
My whole life people, sometimes perfect strangers, have made comments to me about my hair, “you have the most beautiful hair”, “you can’t pay for color like that”, "you are so blessed", etc.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the comments, the compliments, and the reactions. But I think I started identifying who I was by my hair. My beauty, my femininity were all dependent on my hair and how it looked.
The reality is, I do have pretty hair, but I also have thick hair. It takes 20 minutes just to dry it with the hair dryer and I still haven’t even “fixed” it yet. Long hair also gets in the way of blood and “stuff” (trust me, you don’t want to know). I don’t want my hair getting in blood and “stuff”. So when it’s long I just end up pulling it back all the time. What’s the point of having long hair when I’m just going to pull it back?
But truthfully, I’m not pretty because of my hair. I’m pretty because of my character, my dry sense of humor, my intelligence, my nurturing way with patients, my amazing self. I’m not feminine because I have long hair, I’m feminine because I’m female, because I’m a girl, because I have a sensitivity and a gentle nature about me.
For the majority of my life, I’ve had long hair. Long hair is familiar, comfortable, easy, safe. I can wear it down or pull it up and back. It’s what I know, it’s what I do (pun intended).
I’ve always equated long hair with being feminine, with being pretty, with being beautiful. I’m not a girly-girl and I’ve never been overly feminine; so my hair has always been my saving grace, “my crown and glory”, the thing that made me beautiful. Overtime, it’s become a crutch, a hiding place.
My whole life people, sometimes perfect strangers, have made comments to me about my hair, “you have the most beautiful hair”, “you can’t pay for color like that”, "you are so blessed", etc.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the comments, the compliments, and the reactions. But I think I started identifying who I was by my hair. My beauty, my femininity were all dependent on my hair and how it looked.
The reality is, I do have pretty hair, but I also have thick hair. It takes 20 minutes just to dry it with the hair dryer and I still haven’t even “fixed” it yet. Long hair also gets in the way of blood and “stuff” (trust me, you don’t want to know). I don’t want my hair getting in blood and “stuff”. So when it’s long I just end up pulling it back all the time. What’s the point of having long hair when I’m just going to pull it back?
But truthfully, I’m not pretty because of my hair. I’m pretty because of my character, my dry sense of humor, my intelligence, my nurturing way with patients, my amazing self. I’m not feminine because I have long hair, I’m feminine because I’m female, because I’m a girl, because I have a sensitivity and a gentle nature about me.
Today, I’m happy with my short hair. I can’t say I will be tomorrow, but it won't be because I'm not feminine or girly or beautiful.
4 comments:
Beautiful!
Great post Tara! Beautiful!
I love it! It's funny how much importance we put on our hair. You look beautiful. :)
I love it - the post, the hair - gorgeous!
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