Change

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”
Snip, snip, snip and suddenly she was a completely different person.
She had a sudden moment of terror when she took in her image on in the mirror. A frightening flashback to when she had earlier sported a short hairstyle. How they’d started calling her a boy. How they’d teased her every time she did something ‘girly’ because she was a boy, wasn’t she? Her childhood sweetheart confessing that he’d never thought of her as a girl because girls have long hair. 
Then all of a sudden the memories stopped coming, and she was back in the saloon, paying a surprisingly cheap fee.
She took a deep breath before stepping out.
People were definetly staring. The grandma across the street wasn’t making any effort to be subtle- her eyes were wide open and her hands covered her gaping mouth, glancing at what probably appeared to her a freak of nature. It bothered her a bit. She knew she wouldn’t be a pretty sight, but was she that ugly that she gave old ladies nightmares?
The reflection on passing shop windows winked at her. She smiled again.
Her mother was apprehensive. “Well, you certainly seem healthier” she said. “But boys won’t like you like this.”

Her dad was quiet in his fury. He refused to look at her, and when she joked about him having two sons from now on, he got up and walked away. She’d rather have been punched in the gut.

Her little brother kept tugging at her hair, grinning wildly about how similar it was to his now.
She second guessed herself too many times before daring to publicly post a picture of her new look. But once she did, her phone never stopped buzzing with messages.
“Duuuuuude you finally did it!”

A feeling of accomplishment.
“Awww this suits you! So adorable!”

Soft blushing.
“You cut your hair?!”

Eye-roll.
“Ugh. You lost all your prettiness”

Laugh it off.
“Why did you do this? I’m so angry! Why?”

Seething anger. My hair, she thinks.
“Please be my boyfriend!”

Chuckle.
And from the person she most expected understanding,

“I wish you hadn’t done this.”
It hurt for a minute. Maybe two. She put down the phone and went downstairs, to where her parents sat watching tv. Once again, she was eating dinner alone. But halfway though putting a spoonful in her mouth-

“Don’t wear that dress again.” Her father grumbled.
She looked at her apparel. A simple brown frock.
“It doesn’t suit your hair. You look like you’re sick.” He continued, still not looking at her. “And you’re never cutting your hair again. You don’t look like a girl anymore.”

“But I like it.”

“I don’t.”

Anger.

“It’s convenient for me. I like it.”

“So you don’t care about my opinion? Is that it? I’m your father!”

He was finally looking at her.
“It’s my hair.” I‘m not your possession, she silently added.
“You’re always like this- stuck up- thinking you know everything- acting as if I’m stupid-”

“Dad I never said that-”

“Shut up! Don’t you dare talk to me again!”
Appetite lost.
She quickly made her way upstairs, back to her room- her haven, all the while hearing her father badmouth her while her mother silently bore witness. Her gaze drifted to the mirror, where she looked at herself once again.
People judged her without knowing her reasons. They didn’t know that this was a way for her to fight her rampant insecurity. How she was forcing herself to relive her trauma, to face her supposed ‘lack’ of feminity. How this was a means for her to grow tougher skin and stand strong against all those fears that she herself hoards about her appearance.
How this was her proving to herself that she could live without giving a fuck about what others thought she looked like.
She was sure that her attractiveness and what made her female was not her hair. It was who she was.
Her father took it as rebellion. A dear person implied that she had become less attractive.
The phone buzzed again, and it was a sight for sore eyes.

“You look happier now. Good choice :)”
She wiped away the tears and looked at herself in the mirror again. She didn’t look like a boy. She didn’t look ugly either. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and what she saw was a girl on her way to becoming a strong woman.

All flushed cheeks and moist eyes, she tugged at her curls and smiled.
*******************

Whoops it’s been almost a month since I last posted 😅 I can’t wait to catch up on others’ articles though 😍