Cuts

My sister cuts my hair. I think it's been over a year since I last went to a legit salon to get my hair cut. Eliza's really deft, she is yet to nip my ears or poke my eyes.

This post isn't really about our sisterly ritual.

It's been three-ish months since... since, well, since someone entered my life. And this new person (whom I shall refer to as, ta daaaa, Person!) is really different from all the other 'special someones' I have met before: a deviant character, if you will--more into the arts than intellectual pursuits--but just as sincere as I had hoped and prayed for. Our relationship blurs the lines between 'friends' and 'more-than-friends'. Person and I are pretty comfortable with that. Of all the special people in this soldier's story, Person stands out as the only one I felt most comfortable with. All was well until, well, until my demons resurfaced.

I have been insecure all my life. You know that.

Yesterday my sister gave me a cut. We toyed with the idea of close-crop hair--a Med school milestone--and it was not long before I found out that Person is attracted to short hair!

Person's super crush. Hart hart pls <3

No, I did not get this cut, but it stirred insecurities I never thought I would ever experience with Person. All day long all I could think about was whether this cut would flatter me or not, and whether or not I am a coward for refusing to chop my hair off.

Seeking the comfort only a long shower could provide, I cut my afternoon classes and hurried home. As I washed my hair to a loop of Beyonce's ***Flawless, I came upon several realizations:

1. I am not a coward for not cutting my hair short;
2. When I seriously started considering cutting it so that Person might like me more, I sorta lost an internal battle; and
3. Keeping my hair at the length I want is just as brave as deciding to chop it off the way other people do.

I also realized that it is quite possible that no matter how nice Person is, I might slowly be getting consumed by my relationship with them that I have started to compromise the self-assurance I had with me when I entered this chapter of my life. I had to slap myself right there: girl, you ain't that low. You are awesome, beautiful, smart, and talented. Respect yourself, and do not bend over backwards just to please someone. Hold your ground.

If--when-- I decide to cut-- be it my hair, my classes, or my ties with people, memories, and insecurities-- it is because I want it for myself, and not so that other people may find me more attractive, responsible, or courageous. I am beautiful, and brainy, and brave by my own right, and I deserve respect from all people, myself included.