For the first time since 6th grade, I'm growing long hair
Monday, February 15, 2010 at 9:45PM When I arrived in Germany with my father and his family, I had very long hair - it would fall almost to my waist. One day, shortly after our arrival, my father took me to the balcony, outside, with scissors, said that I look like a typical stupid feminine Russian village girl, scooped all my hair, and cut it off, at the neckline. I can't remember how I felt, but I do remember that since that day, I didn't let my hair grow longer than he cut it - longer than a bob.
Over the years, I cut my hair shorter and shorter, until one day I cut it so short that I really looked ugly. But, inside of me, whenever my hair would start curling, I would have an itch to go and cut it. Cut it all off. Be done with it. I was mad at my hair. I didn't understand why. I do now - I didn't want to look feminine, I was afraid to look attractive, to be a stupid Russian village girl - and I was terrified of disobeying my father. I traced these wishes today back to that balcony episode, and I understood that it meant a lot to me. Today I mourned my hair - my femininity, my beauty, and after I was done, I felt like I could grow it again. It was such a revelation. I literally had a block around this for years, and in the matter of minutes it was gone.
I don't have to be stuck in the 6th grader's body anymore, I can have my hair as long as I want, and I will look pretty. I actually looked in the mirror today, with my hair pulled away from my face - no bangs, no hair over the ears - just my own open face. And I liked it. It wasn't ugly at all, and my urge to cut the hair was gone.
I have canceled my haircut appointment. I can be a woman. I've allowed myself today to grow up and shed yet another stone that my father put in my bag of memories - that I look ugly and stupid with long hair. I don't, father, and I never did. And that bag of stones that I'm carrying with me every day - the one where you put so many over the years - that bag is getting lighter and lighter, and today I got rid of one more stone. Tomorrow I will get rid of another one, and then another one, until it is all but empty. Then it will be your bag of stones to carry around, not mine anymore.
Reader Comments (1)
FWIW, I think you'll be prettier with long hair. Pretty with short hair too, but change is good, eh?