reading time: 4 mins.
Today after feeling again sad and tired of boys dumping me - and not because Im ugly or not enough for them, but because I know what I want .. and its a relationship - I decided to chop it off by cutting them ( the boys ) out, my hair and even by changing my hair colour ( from blonde to dark ).. yeah you would say for sure - omg, blonde is difficult to get it back - and I know honey but I was tired of being stereotyped like the stupid blondish guy that only wants to have sex because to be clear:
"I want a man not a boy"!.
Yes, pretty much everything will kill you and no, im not talking about smoking ( which is in fact proven to be something that may kills you overtime ) but im talking about life; life is way too mysterious to not live it by sfagging in the way you like the best nut today I'll talk to you about that time when my flirt-situationshpip wanted me to go blonde and then ruining my hair..
Label me as basic if you must, but when I faced heartbreak, my initial reaction was to snip off my locks. Well, truth be told, my actual first move involved retreating home and spending a month sprawled out on the living room floor amidst piles of cookies, with the soothing banter of Friends as my background score. But eventually, the scissors came out.
Prior to the grand chop, my hair cascaded down to the middle of my face, a testament to 7 months of nurturing growth. My stint with the guy didn’t stretch as long —just less than a semester—but I'd equate nurturing a relationship, regardless of its duration, to nurturing one's hair. It demands dedication, investment, and patience to untangle the knots. When it flourishes, you feel radiant and robust. Yet, sometimes, those knots become insurmountable.
That's when you realize it’s time to snip away (both the hair and the relationship).
Before delving deeper, let me clarify that my relationship wasn’t as lifeless as my hair had become. It was genuinely lovely, at least for a while. Perhaps that's why its demise hit me hard, prompting a yearning for a fresh start.
"Let’s be honest—shearing off your hair can feel akin to losing a part of yourself."
It's an odd and unsettling sensation. You'll gaze into the mirror and momentarily question your identity.
Who stares back at you when a significant part of yourself is conspicuously absent? The answer, unequivocally, is still you ( fucking read that again, please ).
With or without the locks—by now, you’ve likely grasped the analogy—you remain whole
I understand that loss looms large in this narrative. Naturally so! We cherish our hair, just as we cherish our significant others, and contemplating their loss is undeniably daunting. Indeed, walking into the salon after bidding adieu to someone so pivotal to me was terrifying. Yet, it also unfolded as one of the most liberating, rejuvenating, and transformative experiences I've ever encountered.
"Post-cut, there's this moment of liberation that eclipses all doubts."
It may not dawn instantaneously, but I assure you, there will come a juncture where you'll lift your head and feel weightless. You'll shake off the remnants of your old self and chuckle because, with just a few snips, you're reborn.
I emphasize that I deliberated for a month before taking the plunge. The last thing you need after a breakup is to make impulsive decisions that dent your confidence. Take that time to breathe, indulge in gummies, and when that flicker of readiness ignites within you, you'll know it's time.
There's a reason why countless souls opt for a haircut post-breakup, and it's not because they're teetering on the brink of insanity or succumbing to irrational impulses in grief's grip. It's because, amid the chaos, we crave a semblance of control.
Munching cookies on my floor didn’t exactly scream 'empowerment,' but chopping off my hair and changing its color by blonde definetely did. Like a snake shedding its skin, from loss emerges beauty—even if the process begins with pain.
So, months ago I went blonde ( hopefully to get back that guy that wanted me to become like ken.. little did he know I had real feelings.. ugh ) and today I woke up wanting to change, and honey trust me that feeling of power going from blonde to brunette was like a revenge on all of those guys calling me stupid blondie or little angel.. they don't know Im worse than evil kind.
So: Be smart, chop it off, stay sfagging baby.
Dearly, Mike.
picture copyrights of Jennifer Lawrence goes to BackGrid.