Me-cut

As I came out of the salon, I was shocked. My stunning, silky shoulder brown length hair were all chopped off. And I was left with a ‘boy cut’ and some curly strands, which lingered over my forehead.

I had told the barber was just told to trim them, but he did this. And now when I look back, I realize how thankful I am to him.

From the next day, a new journey began. Many people, my close friends, some of my teachers and my parents loved the haircut. They said it made me look really smart.

But others had negative comments.

“Oh you look like a boy!”

“You looked so much better in your long hair!”

“They’ll grow back soon, right?”

“Poor girl, don’t worry, you’ll look pretty once they grow back!”

All these comments hit me harder than the positive ones. My confidence really went down initially. I couldn’t peacefully go for evening walks, or even to school. All those comments seemed cruel, and affected my confidence in myself.

But with time, it all changed.

I realized how important it is to believe in yourself.

It has been two years since I got this haircut, but I learn something new from it every single day. I never thought that something as simple as a haircut would teach me so much. The comments, the mocking used to really trouble me earlier, but with time my resilience has fought back. For me, it has never been a haircut. It’s a symbol to represent myself. And it’s a symbol for everything I stand for. Keeping this haircut for such a long time has taught me to fight. It gives me willpower to stand up for myself. Now, when I get those glares, those comments, I just smile. For I don’t care anymore. Infact, all those comments and mocks make me stronger. They give me the boost to stay the person I am, and keep believing in myself. The society wants me to be how they please, but I have learnt over time that its about you. Its about being the you who pleases you, and standing up and fighting for that You.

I am not a rebel, I am just another girl who wants to be herself.

I am not a girl with a ‘boy-cut’, for haircuts don’t have genders. I am just a girl with a ‘me-cut’.  I realize now that those tiny strands that linger over my forehead aren’t strands of hair. They are strands of every little ideal I stand for. They are strands of me. And nobody can grow or cut them. Except me.