When everyday is a bad hair day
I think that everyone has to have a bad haircut at least once in their life
And if not bad then at least one you are uncertain about. One where you yourself feel unsure so you accept and appreciate any compliments (with scepticism of course) but the second there is hesitation in a reaction then it all comes crumbling down.
I KNEW IT! I KNEW it was a CRAP haircut.
And the worst part about it is that there is literally nothing you can do to fix it apart from wearing a hat or pretending it’s not that bad all the while you pray for hair growth like you have never prayed before.
So far that is what a bad haircut has been for me. Cynicism and religion.
Granted my very first encounter after the cut wasn’t the greatest. My boss and modelling agent’s first words were “oh shit.” Not much going for morale there.
In all fairness – I don’t actually think the cut itself is bad. Well maybe not on a 40-year-old divorcee or a boy. But my hair has curls and I have never had to deal with the way the curls behave when there is no length. They are bare naked. Their every flaw, every fault is more obvious than ever before.
I have never had short hair and I never want to have it ever again in my life.
Every dry strand, every wave that was meant to be more wavy but got mussed up during sleep and lost its form or was pulled apart by the vigorous dragging of my fingers through it in an attempt to make it grow faster, all of it is just so visible. I can’t tie it up when it looks crap which, at the moment is everyday.
It is literally a living nightmare
It’s like I lost the love of my life and now I sit and look back at photos of myself with long hair and feel terrible pains in my heart for better days.
The hairdresser went in too hot you see.
Normally I am so conservative with my hair. I um and ah about how long we are going to keep it and how I want it to look ‘similar’ to the reference photos. My hair is my pride and joy and now it is all gone
This time I showed her photos and she basically did her own thing. Waste of my time, waste of my money and severe blow to my self-esteem.
Especially when it has been a horrible year for my modelling.
I can’t quite get a straight answer though or an answer that will satisfy me.
My boyfriend loves it for some obscure reason. Close friend I have known since I was in highschool told me he thought I was wearing a wig. Best female friend said it was nice and would grow (double sided?) and then someone she knew mistook me for a boy (though that may be for other reasons) and best male friend said it was cool. Mom loves it, stepdad says it shows my face (I see so much more of my stabby chin) and then I recently went out one evening and a complete stranger literally cupped my face in his hands and told me how I was beautiful and should do modelling.
I JUST DO NOT KNOW!
I wake up every day hoping that it has grown just a centimetre or twelve.
I look at the dyed roots to see if there is any regrowth.
Still can’t go into a ponytail. Not even a little.
I look like a combination of Annie and some hipster amalgamation.
If there is one thing I know for sure though it is that if you show any insecurity, then people detect it immediately and it just makes things so awkward. The last thing I want is a fake sympathy compliment. So, when i start seeing a mixed review I immediately put them out of their misery and say “it will grow” whilst quietly taking a second to fall to my knees and scream – in my head.
Basically, I feel like I am running around buck naked and no amount of hands can cover up the naughty bits or make it less obvious.
In the meantime, I am searching for hair growth products – one contains snake oil even. I don’t know how you obtained the oil from a snake but if it moisturises and encourages hair growth then call me medusa,
I am looking forward to having long hair again almost as much as I look forward to being proposed to. It is now a dream that I pray will come true every single night.
The long hair that is.