Girls Should Have Long Hair

“Girls should have long beautiful hair.”  This. This isn’t the first comment about my body or appearance I’m sure, but it’s the first one I can remember when I was made to feel like a choice I made about my own body wasn’t acceptable. My memory is some kind of Dr. Strange black hole with lights and fast moving sound you can see and no one can explain what’s in there.

When I do remember things, it’s usually noteworthy [traumatic], a feeling, [I’m really good about remembering how I was feeling] or I remember a piece of a memory but usually not all of it and someone has to fill in the holes. Sometimes it all comes back and sometimes it never does. They could tell me we went skydiving [Rocky Mountain Climbing, went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu] and I wouldn’t remember.  Although, I absolutely would remember that feeling because even though I’ve never done it just the thought makes me feel a certain way. The feeling is called ‘that will never happen because I don’t have a death wish’. While I’m all about living your best life and living life to the fullest, my fullest life is one where I don’t jump out of planes and speed towards the earth hoping one of those big blanket things you played with in elementary school PE saves you from your imminent doom. 

I don’t remember why I wanted to cut my hair, I was ten. I don’t even remember going to the salon with my mom to get it cut, you’d think that would be the memory. That seems like a special time in any young girl's life.  I do know it was my mom who took me because she did everything for us. What I do remember is being excited about my new little, right above the shoulder length bob and I couldn’t wait to show it off. 

I remember the feeling of excitement as I got out of the car and skipped down the driveway to one of my favorite family members. We lived in a big brick house, with a long driveway that wrapped around the back of the house to the street. I was mid-skip, high up in the air when I heard, “What did you do to your long hair? Girls don’t look good with short hair. Your hair was so beautiful.” And as both of my feet hit the ground, bringing my skip to a screeching halt, so did my heart. 

There it was, the first memory of feeling crushed.

This is my first memory of being told I “shouldn’t” do something because I was a girl.

“Girls don’t do that.”

It’s the first time I realized there was a standard that made someone beautiful or not. 

“Beautiful girls don’t have short hair.” 

It’s the first memory of realizing I could disappoint someone by the choice I made about my own body.

“What did you do?!”  

The next time would be when I was 12 and binged a whole box of Little Debbie devils food cakes. Then when I was 15 and my dad found out, in that very same driveway that I pierced my belly button. Anytime I told a religious friend I wasn’t a virgin. Or how about the time, when I was living on my own at 19 and called my mom and told her I pierced my nose. Oh! What about the time I was told I wasn’t as “skinny” as I “used to be”? OR how about the times I got tattoos? At this point I was a “pro” in making sure I tuned out any reaction one might have about my body. Maybe she’s born with it, [sings] or maybe it’s disassociation.

I wasn’t a pro, it hurt every time.

For the next [breaks out a calculator], 20 years, I would be obsessed with long hair. I would say things like, “I don’t like short hair on me but I like it on other people.” “I think long hair is prettier on girls.” “Some people just can’t pull off short hair.” And to this day I haven’t had my hair that short ever again*. There is a part of me that needs to be able to put my hair into a ponytail because I am one of those people who needs to get it off the back of my neck because it makes me feel claustrophobic, especially in moments of anxiety. But it would be an absolute lie to sit here and not tell you that I still struggle from time to time with feeling like I’m not pretty because of my hair. It’s not often but it does still happen. I get extensions for christ’s sake. It’s taken a lot of reflection and talking it through in therapy to figure out if I do it for me or if I do it for that little girl who didn’t feel beautiful with her short hair. And I’m proud to say, it’s for me. I am [mostly] a “girly girl”. I love dresses, make up, and getting my nails done. It’s all fun to me and I don’t feel like I HAVE to do those things in order to be beautiful. I know I am beautiful without makeup and even though I love it, I almost never wear it. There was a time where I thought I needed all those things, and that’s the difference for me. I don’t need any of it. 

Part of my overcoming means I do things I think I would have been told I “shouldn’t” do. 

Crop tops? Wear’m. Low cut shirts? Wear’m. Tight dresses? Wear’m. Skimpy bikini? Wear’m. Pink hair? Do it. Short shorts? Got’m. The act alone of doing these things doesn’t fix everything, but ultimately helped me realize IT DOESN’T MATTER and IT WON’T KILL ME. It’s empowering. This may not help you find your freedom, but as someone who has been told her body should be covered, that it would cause men to sin, [topics for another day obviously]. Being free, wearing what I want and feeling comfortable and sexy in my own skin is empowering for me. My body is mine. My body has been abused, hated, carried two babies and all my shame. My body doesn’t cause someone to sin or make bad choices. If someone makes bad choices because of “my body,” they already had every intention of making bad choices. We must begin to understand that our bodies are not the problem. 

After years of unpacking all the “girl’s should [insert all the shit people tell us we should]” I’ve come to realize that the most beautiful person is the person who owns exactly what they love and who they are.  [the truth] 

TLDR: There is no “should” in beauty. Beauty is the thing you love, that makes you feel beautiful. You want tats from head to toe, bitch, do it. You want gauged ears and blue hair, babe, rock it. You want short hair, long hair, or no hair, DO IT. Being free to express yourself is the most beautiful thing we will ever witness. Seeing someone be confident in who they are and who they want to be is glorious and gives permission to others to do the same. 

Disclaimer: There are no disclaimers on this one. I am pro living your most authentic self, whatever that looks like. As long as your authentic self isn’t a serial killer, that’s not cool. So I guess that’s my only disclaimer and it always will be: Don’t hurt people. 

*This was written in the summer of 2022, published in spring of 2023. I am happy to say my hair at the time of publishing IS in fact the same length that it was when I was 10. I won’t tell you that it was EASY, there were several mind fuck moments. However, I am happy to say, I love it now and I am still beautiful. <3  Disclaimer: I have decided that one of the reasons I like longer hair on me is because it’s easier. Holy hell, I spend more time doing my hair now than I ever did with long hair. It’s a downside I’m willing to take on to show myself I’m beautiful with or without long hair.