I cut my hair, it wasn't that short, but it was a defined difference than before. I loved it, and so did my hairstylist. She told me it was beautiful and loved the confidence that came with it.
I walked out with a weight lifted off my shoulders, I felt I could defy all of society and be great at it. I felt like I could do anything, that nothing could stop me.
When I got home that all changed. Or I suppose I should say when the rest of my family got home that it went downhill. My mother gave me looks and questioned me about who put these ideas into my head. When I told her, "I did" she refused to believe me. My father stared, "I'm trying to figure out where my daughter went." "What do you mean, I'm in the kitchen." "No, my daughter has long beautiful hair."
My confidence shattered, my self esteem dropped, I held in my tears and laughed. I've gotten used to pretending to be happy, but I never thought getting a haircut would result in this. Going to school after all the comments made me numb to the positive energy my peers shared when they complimented my hair. It made it harder to believe them, I thought maybe I really am ugly, maybe I was stupid for ever thinking I could change. Maybe I was stupid for ever thinking I could be accepted. Maybe I was stupid for letting joy take over so fast. Maybe nobody loves me and it's because of my hair.
YOU ARE READING
I'm Not Me
AdventureThey're smiling, they must be happy. They're laughing, they must be happy. They're family isn't arguing, they must be happy. They're not crying, they must be happy. That's what we've believed for centuries, but it's the biggest lie. There's always...
