This time last year, I had grown disillusioned with my hair. It wasn’t that I didn’t actually like my hair. Although it admittedly took years for me to do that, I was simply tired of throwing it into the same styles. And I’ve tried them all. Marley twists, box braids, cornrows, a simple blowout; you name it and I’ve probably done it…twice.
Source: Instagram
So, you can understand why I threw all caution to the wind and decided to chop all of it off. There was no deep meaning or epiphany behind my big chop; I did it on a whim without knowing what it would look like or how it would make me feel. The truth is that when my stylist first whirled my chair around to face the mirror, I Freaked. Out. There were no tears or angry words, but on the inside, I thought, “Wow. This is a lot to take in.” Source: Instagram
That confidence that I had walked into the salon with was gone. So I had to grin and bear it until I got into an Uber and could cover my TWA (teeny weeny afro) with a beanie. One, my head was cold, and two, what had I just done"! After a week or so, my shock did subside and eventually, I grew to love this new version of me.
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