The big chop. The new ‘do. The cute cut.
Call it whatever you want to call it but I
did it!
Yep, I cut my hair.
Why?
Many reasons.
First, my hair wasn’t doing so well in this
weather. The locks had started to fray,
split and break off because of the dry air. The
dreds were also super yucky from the windy and dusty conditions here. Since I don’t have
running water in my hut, it was very difficult to properly clean my scalp.
Next, I had been wanting to cut them off
since Pre-Service Training last fall but I was scared. Scared of how big I
thought my head was going to be. I know this sounds vain, but I didn’t want to
walk around with a head the size of a soccer ball. Once I was certain I was
going to cut off my hair, I had only told a few people who assured me that a
short natural would do my head justice.
Also, it was time. I first grew my locks in
high school, when I needed a hairstyle that would fit my distance-running lifestyle.
That was about ten years ago! I’m 28 now and have turned a new leaf. And I think now, my haircut reflects exactly where I am in life.
Finally, I’m in Africa, where the short natural
reigns supreme. If I’m going to cut my hair off, this is definitely the place
to do it!
My thoughts about this bold cut have changed
over time, though.
My adoptive mother cut my hair off when I
was in the first grade because I kept tinkering with the styles she’d give me. One
day at school, a Boy Scout representative came into my classroom to talk about
the organization. When she was done talking, she placed brochures on all the
boys’ desks.
Guess who got one?
“I’m not a boy, I’m a girl,” I tearfully
told the representative.
I felt so ugly with my natural back then.
Not now.
I feel as regal as the hair on my head.
