Wow. These glasses ARE loud...

Up until about the 7th grade, I had fantastic hair. I never worried with it. I loved my hair. It was long and shiny and soft... Light brown in the warm part of the year, dark brown during the cold, when I would never get any sun unless I went sledding. But I'd always be wearing a hat anyways, so yeah. I loved my hair. It was wonderful. I always felt pretty, even when I didn't brush it. Especially when I didnt't brush it, actually. My rebellion against my mother started at a very early age...

Well, up until 7th grade I had awesome hair. Then all of a sudden.... It went haywire, almost literally. I think there was a trend. Right when my hair went crazy bushy, I had started to take showers instead of baths. My dad had just installed an upstairs shower and I was excited. Taking a shower felt like a grown up thing to do, and since I was in junior high as well, I felt more grown up.

I endured my long, frizzy hair for two and a half years. I didn't feel pretty through out that entire time except for a few moments scattered about. It was terrible for high school... my confidence was so low. Why didn't I just cut it back in junior high? I'm not sure... I guess I kind of took comfort in my long hair. I could chew on it if I needed to. I could twirl it around my finger if I got bored or nervous. Wrapping my arms around my head made my entire body warmer... I eventually got fucking sick of that noise, though. And I decided to get it cut over winter break.

I was nervous at first, when I entered the hair cutter's domain and sat in the waiting chair and then the hair cutting chair. The lady seemed nice enough. My mom knew her, so I trusted her. I knew I wanted a short cut. Like... above or around the ears. I ended up having an interesting cut, and it was amazing. It was layered and short and shiny.

Once I got home, though... I freaked out. I was already missing the comforts that my long, thick bushy hair provided. I cried. In private, I cried. I don't think I brought it to any one's attention. That's just what happens, though, when I get a hair cut that is drastically different. I really don't like change, it seems, when the change affects me and only me. It was a different story when I went back to school a couple days later.

Every one shat bricks about my hair. It was amazing. I felt so much more confident and less loathsome and angsty. I felt like my true self at last. At lunch, every one of my friends was raving over it. My buddy Sam said "You now look like one of those hip people who would work at a record store." That brightened my day. My friend Peter came up behind me and just started petting my head. He was stunned. It was hilarious. I had finally welcomed myself to the world.