Growing up in a Mexican household you’re expected to have long pretty hair. My entire childhood, my hair would reach below my back. All the girls at school would compliment it, so I kept it long because it seemed to be one of the few qualities people liked about me. I remember my mom used to braid it every day and my baby hairs would make me look like a lion by the end of the day.
As I grew older, I wanted to have shorter hair. I mean, I was totally going through an emo phase during middle school and wanted to rock a scene hairstyle like late youtuber Christina Grimmie.
(Photo courtesy of @TheRealGrimmie)
Unfortunately, my hair is thick. I mean the type of thick hair that when you go cut it at a salon, all the hairdressers and other customers who are supposed to be minding their own business go, “Wow so much hair!” Then, cue my mom in the background saying, “I know. I hate that she wants to cut it to her shoulders.”
After my mom said those cursed words, everyone in the salon would start yelling at a child who wanted to break free from the unmanageable mess that was her hair. Every time I went to go get a haircut, a scenario like this would happen, and I was stuck with hair to my shoulders in layers.
I hated layers. They grew out choppy, they weren’t versatile, and I couldn’t do any hairstyles with it. According to every hairdresser (and my mom), I went to, I wasn’t allowed to have short hair without layers. Why? Because it was so thick and wavy that I would look like a lion when it was cut short, and I didn’t want that.
(Photo courtesy of Pexels)
But, maybe I did want to look like a lion. The hairdressers should’ve sat there and minded their own business, but instead, from age 9 all the way to age 16, I was stuck doing whatever older women wanted me to do. I was stuck with short hair and layers that made me uncomfortable for all these years. Fortunately, when I was 17, I was told by my best friends who were raised by a hairdresser that I could thin out my hair. I was confused. Not once had anyone ever suggested to me to thin out my hair if I wanted to have short hair. Had all these hairdressers kept this beauty secret hidden from me just to please my mom? It sounded too good to be true. Frankly, I was done having long hair. At that point, I had been growing it out for two years because my mom didn’t want to take me to get another haircut. In the spur of the moment, I went to my friend’s house this February where their mom brought her tools from work and gave me my dream hair.
She took out a lot of hair, and I did not care. It’s just hair. It’ll grow back anyway. By the end of it, I had shoulder length hair now without the wicked layers, and I think for the first time in a long time, I was genuinely content with myself. But of course, being the impulsive person I am, I went back a month later and cut and thinned out my hair again. This time, my hair was right below my ears, and I made my parents cry. But at this age, I was already as independent as my older siblings, and I knew that I didn’t need my parents’ (or anyone’s for that matter) affirmation. It was my hair, not the family hair. If I one day wanted to go as far to get a buzz cut, I would (it’s a bucket list item). I was happy before, so I was definitely happier with the shorter length. It was as freeing as I thought it’d be, and I found this new confidence I never thought I could have.
(Photo courtesy of Pexels)
Today, I find myself going to a hair salon on my own for the first time to get yet another haircut to finish off 2018. Since March, my hair has grown from my ears to my shoulders, and because of the thinning out, I need to get it shaped. I have random pieces of hair here in there that are easy to hide, but I get lazy doing my hair everyday. Once again, I have my “soccer mom haircut” that my friends and I love. It’s easy to manage and doesn’t make me want to shave it all off. I know my dad is going to ignore me for a few hours when he sees my hair, and my aunts are going to make a big deal out of it when I see them during the break, but as an adult making her own decisions, I don’t care. I’m happy with my short hair, and that’s all that matters.