Getting your hair cut is not only therapeutic, but also extremely educational. I can attest to this because I didn’t do this once, but twice within the span of two months. Both haircuts have been noticeable — at least to my wonderful Italian professor. He has a class chart with our ID pictures. After both haircuts, he tilted his head and asked me if I cut my hair because I looked so different from my ID photo. I came to college with long, long brown hair. It was fairly straight, occasionally wavy if I slept on it the wrong way. I liked my long hair. It’s what I had most of my life. Truthfully, it was my comfort zone.
When I turned 19, I realized that wasn’t who I was anymore. I wasn’t the girl that stayed in her comfort zone. I was at Penn State, a school so much bigger than what I ever expected. I was in honors classes here, which was out of my comfort zone. I went to sports games and drag shows. I wasn’t the insecure girl who relied on her long hair to make her feel confident. I didn’t feel like my long hair was a part of my personality anymore.
I got six inches cut off at the end of October. The difference was night and day, and I couldn’t stop smiling. It felt like the world was lifted off of my shoulders. I felt like the way I looked outside represented who I was inside. I was happier. I was smiling more. This was the shortest I’ve gone in seven years, and I was scared to do it, but the payoff was worth it. This was also so fun for me because I realized my hair is naturally wavy. I was convinced I had pin straight hair, so it was a miracle. I actually had a use for my hair straightener now, and it was so exciting. My hair grew out, as it does. And then I went home for winter break.
Back in my childhood bedroom, I knew I needed a change. I felt too much like who I was before college; the insecure, self-conscious girl, and I needed a visible reminder that she was gone. I needed a visible reminder that I’ve grown. So I got another three inches cut off.
I only wanted two inches gone, but the stylist had other ideas. This was a little bit of a low. I wanted to feel good and cute and instead felt betrayed. My hair also decided to stage a revolt, and stop being all cute and wavy. It only curled up at the ends, giving me a Willy Wonka look. It was not flattering, and I was thankful I was at home and not at college for that. But I learned my limits. And my hair grew out again, as it does. And then I came back home to State College.
My hair is now at the length I asked for, and I’m happier. My hair is half an inch shorter when it decides to be wavy. I’m still working on figuring out how to take care of my hair properly, and what length I want to try and keep it. But I learned a lot through this experience.
Cutting my hair made me realize so much more about myself. Growing up, I felt like my long hair was what made me feminine. With it gone, it was clear that I was still feminine. I thought my long hair was what made me pretty, but I still looked pretty with it short. My hair isn’t a factor I use to define myself or my worth anymore. If you haven’t had a short hair phase, I can’t recommend it enough. I’m so thankful that something as insignificant as a hair cut has helped with my self-image and my confidence.