WHY I CUT MY HAIR- dead ends.
A bit scissors-happy or perhaps a little more than “a bit.” I snip away, reflecting on scenes from the movie Nappily Ever After and blasting Seinabo Sey’s “Good in You.”Why? Because I am tired.
Lately, I’ve felt trapped by the stringy straight ends that stifle the growth of my natural curls.
Punishment for my inability to commit. A curiosity that led me to mimic a perm look without the full commitment. There I go again; commitment issues.
What is this constant conflict with self? This undesirable urge to look like this or that based on what people may say or what they might think? “I’m sure I’m going to upset a few people,” I thought to myself. But I simply cannot turn back now.
The music intensifies. The thrill peaks; A near orgasm on my route to freedom.
A new self, a much-needed change.
I’m smiling, laughing out loud in the presence of myself and it isn’t long before the tears start flowing.
The heavy gets heavier, the noise, a little louder, just then, right before the end.
My insides scream. A pain rises, gripping my chest and stealing my breath. I fall to my knees, reminding myself to inhale. That’s when I realize, this isn’t just me cutting my hair.
I’ve been releasing anger. Letting go of pain, of hurt, of hate. Mourning all the people who left.
All the opportunities that passed me by, all the times I cheated myself.
I am accepting, embracing, finally letting go.
There’s a term I’ve come up with to describe this process. Their Eyes Were Watching God; the 1937 novel by Zora Neale Hurston. In its adaptation, Halle Berry plays Janie, a Black woman on her journey.
After each chapter of her life, Janie is seen floating in the river.
When asked what she’s doing, she replies: “Watching God.” My approach has been similar. I call it Shedding Skin. My self-care. My moment to pause; to see myself from the outside looking in.
I feed my soul with poetry, whether I write it or listen. I surround myself with sweet music, with lyrics that sound like they were written by angels. They cleanse my spirit. They bring me peace.
In this moment of cutting my hair, I was shedding skin and as I sat alone in a candlelit room, wiping tears and smiling once again, breathing in the aroma of my scented candles, catching sight of the last of my Apothic Red; It consumed me. The healing.
I’ve decided to embrace a future that feels certain and even the thought of change now excites me.
It’s not indecisiveness, it’s growth; an expression of self.
So I gather all the dead ends. Look at them one last time and I know, It’s time to say goodbye.
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