Wednesday, March 23, 2011

A hair affair

So yeah, I got my hair cut. (again. apparently I do this too often) I was holding out until after DanceSport to chop it all off again. To be completely honest, I had almost gotten used to longer hair and was slightly anxious before going in to get it cut. But I didn't stay scared long.

Incidentally, the flash is doing funny things. I'm not actually a redhead, although I have been going progressively more natural with my colors. The whole bleach-your-entire head thing was great for ballroom but not so great for my poor scalp or me in real life (or on camera for that matter: Bro. Curtis would repeatedly tell me that I looked like I had a halo around my head... and I don't blame him). So highlights and lowlights it is.

You know what, the funny thing is cutting my hair has had an almost symbolic meaning for me. I know I'm getting all cheesy on you, but it really does feel like more than just trimming split ends. For one, my dad refused to let us girls cut our hair EVER growing up (it took a lot of whining and rationalizing with our mom before I could finally get it just past my shoulders) and as a result I looked like a little polygamist most of the time. Case in point:

That would be me in the greyish sweater. For some reason I thought a big sweater was cool. Of course, my perception of "cool" has quite often been very far from reality...

So anyway, when I was finally old enough to start making some of my own decisions, I went a little crazy (there was a redhead phase... not too good) but eventually, I decided I definitely like short. It's how I want to look, and I'm glad my husband likes it too.

Then there was the time I applied to the broadcast program and was expected to chop my hair off to have a professional appearance. (Although it isn't standard for all stations, it is a good professional look and that's the expectation in BYU's newsroom) That certainly caused a lot of drama within the department, and at the time I was still on team and needed hair long enough to make a bun for performances--but then I made the decision to just go for it. I wanted to show that I had guts.

And I did it. I was the first one to walk into class with my hair chopped off, and it was fantastic. It somehow felt incredibly liberating, although I really hated that first haircut. (Not because it was short but because it wasn't at all what I had in mind going into it). Since then, it's been great. Maybe it's the slightly rebellious girl in me, but it just works.

Aren't you loving this dissertation about my hair story?

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