Ever since I can remember, I’ve been complemented for my hair. It’s always been long, blonde, and pretty; I’ve always considered it the definition for my identity – “the girl with the long blonde hair”.
It had been at least 13 years since I cut my hair more than a 2 inch trim. THIRTEEN YEARS. So, in some sort of psychotic or brave (or both?) leap, I decided to chop off 10 inches, and four months later, I chopped off 3 more.
Now, before you think of this as a trivial thing to write about (much less be the core of my identity) please remember that society has certain expectations for women in order for us to be feminine and pretty enough. This is a deeply ingrained social construct that begins the moment we wear our first bows. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t resent it. But it does play a profound role in the self-identification of women, young and old.
Now, without further ado… My new ‘do!
(here comes the real meat of this post)
Throughout this only slightly traumatizing journey to what I look like today, I learned one of the most valuable lessons to date: I thought I knew who I was, but I didn’t truly know the extent of my potential until I jumped outside of my comfort zone.
(pause for dramatic affect)
I’ve heard it time and time again that we reach our potential on the other side of our comfort zone and as cliche and annoying as that sounds – it’s true.
(You were right, Mom, as per usual.)
So maybe I’ll continue to do things that scare me a little, or maybe I’ll continue on this path for a while. Even so, I’m in a happy place here – short hair and all.