Words on my mind: Vanity

The bleak lighting highlights the bags beneath my eyes and the access skin above them. Tired and hooded, a dull state. My skin takes on a vulgar orange tint, the nooks and crannies obvious under the scrutiny. My long hair curtains around my round face and protects it all from analysis. My long hair is about to be taken from me. It’s vanity, it’s severe conditioning from an anonymous source, or, rather, from unlimited sources. Years of clutching to thinning strands, scared of the scissors and laying it all bare. Years of hoping for mermaid hair, princess hair, pretty hair. Acting like hair is the single defining element that makes me a woman. How misguided?

TravelMake-upBag

My lovely hairdresser Emma double checks the new length, a length I asked for, and I nod a little numb, my stomach flipping. I lower my head as instructed, the only evidence of the action is the snipping of the scissors. The sound had never haunted me quite so deeply. It’s so strange to have such fear of losing a thing that renews itself everyday, takes barely any time to grow. It’s so bizarre to think my femininity lies in the length of it, in the style, the texture and colour. It’s sickening the amount of money I pay to maintain it. My confidence is at stake in those five minutes sat in a chair, paying for my security to be stripped away from me. But it’s part of my internal revolution. Part of my rebellion against who I’m supposed to be. In the end it’s liberating. I look so different, so I can act so very differently too.

5173460

The shards of my armour scatter the marble floors but the sight doesn’t effect me, I just stand up and brush off the remnants, thank Emma and even leave her a tip. Instead of heading straight home as planned, I amble around town, peeking at my reflection at any given chance. Girls with curtains of light satin locks and others with waving dark tresses don’t spark any regret or envy in me. My new bob bounces when I walk, my head feels lighter and there’s something very delicate about the shape of it. Something maybe even a little more feminine than all that matted length.

Embrace a moment of courage and take the risk. You’re more than your physical vessel.

Positive vibes, always. N x

SaveSave

Author: nikki

In a constant existential crisis, dipping me toe in everything, trying me best.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s