I got my hair done this week! If you follow me on social media, you definitely know this, because I decided that getting a new look is a free pass to be as self indulgent as you please and post lots of photos of yourself while you wait for your besties and that one guy you matched with on a dating app (who will never actually ask you out) to gas you up in the comments. I love it.
I usually head to the salon every three to four months, but it had been six, so I was feeling long overdue for some TLC in the hair department. When it gets to this point, I find myself getting really frustrated with how I look. I wear my hair up more than usual, just because it bugs me, and I find myself being even more critical of how I look in photos. Getting it done feels like a realignment and a lifted burden of sorts.
I know this is a little existential for a literal haircut, but I’m also not going to apologize for that. Society likes to pressure women to succumb to unreal beauty standards and regimens, and then it mocks us when we actually start to care about them. Mini soap box over…moving on.
The point is, this haircut sent me into Carrie Bradshaw cosplay, and “I couldn’t help but wonder” why something as simple as changing your hair can have such an effect on your mood and self confidence.
After a couple hours spent marinating in the salon chair, I concluded that what it really boils down to is control.
This might come as a shock, but I’m a bit of a control freak. Some may say that this “type A-ness” is because I’m a Virgo rising, some may say it’s something that went wrong in my childhood, and some may say it’s just the human condition, but all I know is that I can be a little high strung (but I’m a super fun, chill, ~cool~ girl for anyone asking).
If you’re lucky enough to not be a control freak, I’ll let you in on a secret about those of us who are. We’re the most delusional people on the planet. Why? Because control is an illusion. Yet we’re still out here making spreadsheets and shit! Every. Single. Day.
We go through life trying to create little protective bubbles for ourselves and for those we love, and they still get popped. Bad things still happen to good people, I still cry on a random Thursday for no reason, and there are still a million abandoned puppies that need homes.
We all exist in a world of war, despair, and senseless violence. Being in control has never actually been my reality, or yours either for that matter.
But a good haircut can suuuure make it feel like control might actually be within your grasp. Maybe you can’t make sense of the news, but you can decide to go a shade darker. You might not understand why you’ve been rejected, but you can finally try that fringe. It’s a bandaid, lovingly placed on a wound that requires much more care. But hell, it still feels pretty good, doesn’t it? Even if it only lasts for a minute.
I have been acutely aware of my lack of control lately, but this change to my hair reminded me that:
I look really hot as a brunette and
Even though I can’t control anything, that doesn’t mean that I should stop caring. It’s a privilege to fall and get back up again. And again and again.
I think it’s actually really sweet and wholesome that so many of us little humans care so much that we try to orchestrate our own worlds that bring us joy and comfort, down to the Nth degree. Reality almost never matches up to our idealized dream life, but half the fun is just imagining a world where that dream could even hypothetically exist.
So if you’re a control freak/dreamer/delusional human being, I see you. I love you. I respect you for trying in a world that wants you to give up. Oh, and I think you’d look amazing with some face-framing layers.
Anyway, I hope this newsletter was okay! No worries if not! Talk soon! Bye!