Ending The Love Of Hair

It’s been said that when a woman cuts her hair, she is about to change her life. I sat in my stylist’s chair about to have my hair foiled and trimmed, when I looked at myself in the mirror—she brushed my shoulder length hair and held it up high with a clip. As she mixed the salon concoction, I liked what I saw in my reflection—me. I wasn’t hiding behind this curly mop of hair anymore. I leafed through one of her hairdo magazines and found a picture of a blonde with this cropped curly haircut.

“Do you think I should cut my hair short?” I asked her as I surveyed my head to the left and right in the mirror.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to cut your hair. I like your hair,” she spoke and then turned back to stirring her mixture.

“What do you think about this on me?”

I showed her the photo.

“You could wear that. Do you want me to cut all your hair off?”

“Yes. Let’s do it.”

That first snip is the toughest, because once it’s done, there’s no turning back.

“You’re very brave. I hope you’re not going to be crying after we do this, Adrienne.”

“I promise I won’t. I think it’s time to go short, Farrah,” I reassured her, but I cringed at the sound of that first snip and watched the lock drop to the floor.

Hair has a life of its own. It defines us. It demands constant attention. Hair elicits comments from perfect strangers.

“Excuse me. You look like Marilyn Monroe with that hair of yours,” said a young woman in the dental office sitting next to me.

I did have a hairstyle very similar to hers and often received this comment from random people. Okay, I like it. I like Marilyn Monroe, an intelligent, sexy blonde.

My hair is, or I should say, was, high maintenance. Every day, it requires something from me. The last few weeks I stopped combing it, well, most of the time. I would just wind it around my hand and pin it to the back or the top of my head. Out of sight out of mind. I liked suppressing it with a baseball cap. My hair was tiresome—the washing, the deep conditioning, the hot rollering, the comb out—every day the hair needed me to do something.

“I love your hair, Adrienne!” Or, “What did you do to your hair? It looks terrible!”

And the money! Hair products alone run up a monthly bill. The expensive shampoo, the conditioners, the mousse, the shiners, the hair spray. Oh, and don’t forget the appliances—hair dryers, flat irons, curling irons. And the hair accessories: hair bands, clips, bobby pins, combs… I have a drawer full of the gizmos. But now, I’ve thrown them all out.

If I had a friend who required so much attention, I’d cut her out of my life. And so that’s what I did—I got it all cut off. I watched, fascinated as Farrah put a small amount of mousse into my newly shorn hair and smiled back at me.

“What do you think?”

“I think I’m very pleased at our decision. It had to go. It was driving me crazy.”

She used the hair dryer and scrunched my hair in her fingers. The finished look was lovely. So little effort and my hair looked healthy and bouncing with life. I put my hand back and could feel my neck. I ran my fingers up to feel only a few inches of healthy shining hair. Freedom.

As I left her salon, I thought of how much importance a woman’s hair plays in her life. For myself, I think I’ve hidden behind it. I’ve let it define me. With it short, for the first time in a couple decades, I’m presenting myself to the world as…. me.

I might miss those compliments comparing me to Miss Marilyn, but I’m tired of all the work it takes to keep that hair looking fabulous, blonde and sexy. I think exposing the neck and face to the world is about as sexy as one dares to be.

And now I’ll have to post a new picture on the dating site. I’ll leave the others, but upload one of me sporting this new hairstyle; I’ll keep you in the loop as to the responses. I’m sure there will be some. Men love hair. And this is where I think I’m making a stand—and changing how I’m perceived. No more catering to what ‘they’ want from women.

Next posting: Waiting for Homeboy.


Ending The Love Of Hair © 2011 Adrienne S Moody. Read the latest Adrienne exploit on Now.readthisplease.

2 Responses to “Ending The Love Of Hair”
  1. Jes says:

    You’re so brave, I did it once and never again lol. It looks amazing by the way! =)


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