Pocketbook Stories: The Big Chop
It wasn’t planned, but I guess that’s the best time to do it. I was actually looking to have something new done to my wig. A bob cut. Color maybe. That plan fell through after my budget said otherwise. I’d already spent enough over the summer on hair, closures, wig install, and all the other jazz that comes with, and because I don’t like the same thing for very long I knew for sure that my preference was running a losing race with my pockets. (I’m almost certain that’s a run-on sentence, but anyway…)
I had/have hair. I’ve gone without a perm for years now, so it’s been ‘natural’ for some time. I just figured that if I did protective styles long enough then my heat damage would grow out and one day I’d be able to wear it and my natural spirals flourish on their own.
And I still believed that would have worked. In my mind I had braid appointments scheduled. Maybe do a crochet. A new wig for the fall, but…
- That wig was getting hot! Like at the park, sweaty on my neck, where’s the rubber band, HOT!
- Too costly. Definitely worth the investment every other season, but eh. Still.
- I kind’a sort’a always wanted a tapered cut.
So, I did what any girl would do:
I debated…
What if I look fat in the face? Then I’d be fat and bald. What if I can’t style it the way I wanted to once I got home? And if I absolutely hate it, it wouldn’t just grow back…and then I’d have to wear the wig…and then I’d get tired of it again, so I’d want another wig…and that meant more money…and then I’d be broke, cause I managed poorly, and then I’d beat myself up about that and it’d take me right back where I started with the ideal of cutting it all off anyway!
You only live once. And I know that’s cliché, but it couldn’t be truer. You don’t know what you don’t know and there was only one way to find out.
I booked an appointment with Joya (insta: @hairbyjoya) because I knew she was nice with the scissors, and dope with color whenever I was ready for that. Appointment booked, and the day came.
I’m going to spare you the storytelling of how the shears snipped the first lock of hair, and then another to most of the floor had what I came in with. Because surprisingly, even though I was uncertain about exactly what I wanted, I didn’t care about losing any of it.
No, I wasn’t nervous. No, I don’t miss the hair.
Simply put: I’ve learned that if you’re going to do it then do it. I love my new haircut. I feel liberated, free, and so detached from hair and length. I so appreciate the stylist for being super patient with me, and getting me right.
The plan was to get it cut, grow it out, and keep it there. But shoot…I’m thinking shorter next time.
I’m always writing, and that means blogging too! If I wrote it, I’ll remind you.
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