My hair has grown with me, extending beyond my shoulders and just past my breasts, since they started to form some fifteen years ago, an undeniable mark of femininity. I’ve always been proud of my beautiful mane and its glorious blend of coffee and golden orange strands. It’s been my play thing, twisting locks upwards into a quick bun, into braids and fancier arrangements whenever so inspired. It’s been my comfort, a familiar hiding place, both when younger and threatened, and every early morning since I can remember, pulling it across my eyes to shade the bright light. And so too has it been something weighing me down, creating heat and uninvited knots.
I’ve always found it challenging to imagine my future. Up to the present moment, I’ve only envisioned specific pieces, somehow guessing how they might someday, somehow be assembled into a coherent togetherness. One random glimpse that has persisted throughout the years is an image of myself as a young professional in a brilliant red business suit, with hair barely grazing my shoulders. This woman is confident, sexy, takes no bullshit, and balances gracefully her sensitivity and empathy with the harshness and demands of daily reality.
I moved to Yucatán, México in March after a stressful couple of years in Los Angeles. For the past several months I had been thinking about a shorter cut, desiring a more tangible physical change to reflect the inner shifts beginning to take place. It’s humid here, beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, and I have battled with my hair on a regular basis, brushing it multiple times a day and applying copious amounts of conditioner, to no avail. And at the same time, I believe I’ve needed this heat to snap me out of it, wake and shake up, to rip me open. Things here move slowly, a relaxed jungle pace inviting us all to take our time, and move within nature’s flow, to follow her lead.
Even walking into the salon, I wasn’t sure whether it was the correct moment to make this change. The stylist joked with me, sharing stories of his adventures, reminding me how important it is to continue seeking joy and that ever so addictive spirit of vitality. He asked, “you trust me right?” and said, “it’s going to be great, don’t worry,” as I agreed to part with nearly a foot of hair. With a few quick snips into my ponytail, it was suddenly gone. I felt an overwhelming sense of lightness in body and spirit. I could stand up straighter, appeared somehow taller, and was just starting to realize that not only does this woman inhabit my mind, but is embodied by me more and more everyday. I jumped off the cliff, and was surprised to find myself ready to further delve into a deeper understanding and knowing of the person I am truly meant to be.
Crescent Phrasing 