My big chop.


There’s no greater transition than from “Long hair don’t care”  to “short hair can’t pack”. It’s nearly 4 months and I still haven’t gotten past the TWA (Teeny Weeny Afro) zone. I didn’t know it was going to take this long before I grew my hair back. I didn’t think it was going to be this tasky. Trying to attain team natural.

Anyhoo, no regrets.
Yet. ?

Ever since I had my big chop (Cut my really long hair), I’ve constantly had to deal with shocking screams from people who haven’t seen me in a while as to why I’ve decided to do it and dejectedness from my somewhat bald friends who felt I should have kept the cuts so that they may atleast cellotape it on their heads.

It’s really not been an easy task explaining to the remaining 7 billion minus 1 people as to what made me do it. Because I really didn’t know what made me do it.

At first, I told people I had really terrible hair infections. I told some that I want to regrow my hair because it had stopped growing (actually, it did stop growing) and that I wanted to grow my hair naturally. I also remember I told another set of people that someone dared me to do it.

Blah blah blah. Yada Yada.

I lied to all of them.
I lied to myself because I wasn’t really sure I wanted to face the truth.
But here comes the truth after all this time. (My apologies to those whom I’ve lied to. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say!!)

The truth is..

I was plain tired.
I was tired of looking the same all my life.
Okay, weaves. Hairstyles makes you look different. Blah blah.
I was tired of all those things. And most importantly,  I was tired of “really long hair that I didn’t really ask for but just grew up with and I’ve had no chance to ask for how and what I want it to be like” hair.

Bang. There you have it.

I can’t remember how and when I got my hair relaxed or at what age. I just knew I had hair and it was scarcely taken care of. I realised I was tired of that and wanted to start it all over again. On the run, I fell in love with the new hair revolution thing. Became a “hair person”. I got a chance. I took it. End of story.

Acceptance? Ah.
That was quite challenging.
My parents were indifferent. They know I’m capable of making rational decisions. Regardless of whether or not it made sense at that moment (bless them). ?

My siblings on the other hand? They were outrightly impossible. I spent the first month of my big chop having to deal with constant bullying. I can’t remember when they didn’t make jest of me.
Tough skin, trust me. That was what I developed. And gradually, they began to accept that I was not going to grow jet black hair all over in 5 secs.

Acceptance by myself?
Oh well. I brought this upon myself. So therefore, I was always cheerful at the mirror. Even when I went down from the “I ordinarily look like a teen” ladder to “I am a preteen” ladder. There was scarcely a difference between my face and body physique from that of a 10-yr old school boy. It was that weird.
But guess who got through that stage and now looks like a fine young 15-yr old now? Me!
Well, 15 is still old. So yeah, we’re improving.

Today, I made my hair into twist outs and it looks quite good. I really don’t know what it’d look like once I untwist it. But till then..

I have to say that I’m enjoying this, “I can pour water on my head while I have my bath” life. Life cannot possibly get better than this. 😀

I can’t rule out the fact that I have taken a big step and I have welcomed a paradigm shift in my life. (What is paradigm shift? ?)

It can only get better.
And the truth is; At first, they will ask you why you’re doing it. Later, they’ll ask you how you did it.

See ya when my natural hair starts to sweep the floor! ?

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