• Vicky Murray

I am my hair... or maybe I'm not?

Ever linked your worth, confidence, identity to something that, really, isn't the be all and end all? Me too, until I didn't. Here's what I mean.

Call me Sampson

For years I believed my identity and my strength were linked to the length of my hair.

Think of me as the female Sampson, if you will. Then, today (22 September 2021), I chose to have that hair chopped. Well, honestly, a bad colour meant it was in the worst condition of its life! so drastic action was needed.

Anyhow, it was still a decision that I MADE. For me.

My amazing hairdresser took one look at me when I arrived for my appointment and said how terrified I looked (I was), but I’d asked for this and I trust her 100%

The Process

Now, assuming we don't know each other well yet, I really do cling to my hair like a child does their comfort blanket, so this decision was a big one for me. When I first heard the Lady Gaga song 'hair' I literally thought it was written for me, about me (more on that later).

Throughout the cutting process it felt a little like one of those TV shows where I was being talked down off a ledge. I joked about the mascara I wore so as not to cry. See, when I was young, and then a young adult, I had short hair and the memories were not good ones.

Then it hit me. This was different. I was different.

And then it was gone

When Kayleigh (said God-like hairdresser) finished, did I look in the mirror immediately and think ‘wow - there she is’? No.

I have to be honest, I did want to cry, but not because I hated the cut. I realised it was the first time in a LONG time I was actually seeing me.

ME me. Not my hair, not the colour of it. My actual face. My eyes. No more hiding!

This was weird, I'm not going to lie (and boy does it feel cold when that hair is no longer down your back), but it was also still new.

So I did what any self-conscious person does. I road tested this new hair. I ran errands and accepted a compliment from a lady in a shop about said hair, I saw a friend who has no poker face, and I walked home with my head held high.

And here’s what I’ve realised:

I am not my hair.

Long hair. Short hair. No hair. I am ME.

I’m strong, I’m capable, I’m confident and I no longer want to hide.

I’m ready to celebrate. I’m ready to be photographed - not only be the photographer.

It feels pretty amazing.

So back to those song lyrics I thought were for me. Maybe they still are, but the thing is, I get to choose. You get to choose. You can be free, you are not a freak, you decide your identity - not hair, not other people, simply YOU.

Go out there and celebrate every part of you. Stop hiding. Start celebrating. You are amazing.


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