A Woman With Short Hair


"I came to several epiphanies during and after my haircut that only someone who actually took the pixie cut leap could ever understand. Hair, as society has taught us, is an extension of a woman. It holds similar physical attributions to our breast, our ass, and our legs. The longer the better is what we were taught. It is our standard of beauty. And yes, even as a pixie owner, I still think long hair is beautiful. To each its own. But when you take a second to dig deeper or ask why, there is no practical reason to support this. It never really occurred to me until I decided to cut it all off. "







I've had this haircut for 7 weeks. SEVEN WEEKS! It feels like it's only been 3 weeks. In fact, I told a girl friend of mine - "3 weeks" during a light catchup over the weekend. As I'm typing this out, I've realized that I totally lied to her. Whoops. (inset awkward face emoji)

I came to several epiphanies during and after my haircut that only someone who actually took the pixie cut leap could ever understand. Hair, as society has taught us, is an extension of a woman. It holds similar physical attributions to our breast, our ass, and our legs. The longer the better is what we were taught. It is our standard of beauty. And yes, even as a pixie owner, I still think it's beautiful. But when you take a second to dig deeper or ask why, there is no practical reason to support this. It never really occurred to me until I decided to cut it all off. 

When I had long hair, I could easily hide my imperfection. Oh, that uneven cat liner on my left eye, "No biggie, my hair will just cover it." Even if it wasn't true, I felt safe behind my hair. I can play with it when I'm nervous to distract myself from this first date. I can spend an hour on it, conditioning it,  blowdrying it, spraying it, and then curling it so that it looks bouncy at the club. Enough to catch a bouncy lad there, too. Or the hair comparisons similar to the weight comparisons. My hair reflected each side of me, or so I thought. The outgoing party curler, the pins straight seriousness, the skipped a shower bun. And I remembered always touching it. I always touched my hair. Why is that? Weird, I can't explain it. 

Now that I have chopped it all of, I feel transparent. Naked. Everyone can see my face. All of it. There is nothing left to the imagination between the hair strands covering it. That's all gone. What you see is what you get. So what now? It was definitely a scary and nerve-wrecking feeling. But let me tell you something, it also freaking rocks! My entire aura has changed. I feel strong and empowered. How was that energy was placed there, I'm not so sure. I actually feel more like myself. Even a brand new woman. I can't entirely credit my hair but I will say this haircut came at just the right time. 

And people's reactions to it are quite interesting. They really either love it or hate it. Some people think I look like an Asian boy, which was also one of my biggest fears going into it. Or they like it, but they just preferred long hair. That's okay, too. People who stood in the middle actually happen to be the ones I was very close with. They had little to no comments on it. Perhaps, they weren't ready for the change. And for those who loved it, they said they liked me best with short hair. Said, "Lynn, your face was meant for it." And I really want to thank them for their support and, really, everyone. Because these comments are sweet but in the end, I'm happy that I love it.

Isn't that all that matters? I matter.


Photos by Lui Val