Anticipation. Excitement. A tad bit of dread.
The blades slid together and in just a few breaths, 3.5 years of hair growth (subtract 6 inches and a good handful of trims) was sliced from my head.
Why?
Because my hair has always been a false security and comfort in my life.
In middle school, I began the process of growing out my bangs because they were no longer cool. As many of you experienced, it was an awkward task involving a combination of hairclips, headbands, and hairspray. But I triumphed. Pretty was bang-lessness. And I felt pretty… or at least normal.
In high school, I learned that if I wanted to be identified as an emo kid, I needed to have side swept bangs. So once again I had bangs sliced into my hair and hoped they looked emo-y enough. I looked in the mirror and saw that my hair wasn’t dark enough. So I bought a bottle of hair dye and blackened my natural chestnut-brown locks. Soon after I discovered that pretty was straight. So I asked for a flat iron for Christmas. And as I left my house with my hair steamrollered flat, I felt pretty… or at least normal.
In college, I joined a sorority. I desired the 49 other women in my sorority to accept me. I felt different. That I didn’t fit in. Pretty was tan skin. It was foundation, bronzer, mascara, eyeliner, and lip-gloss. It was bleached or highlighted hair. So I tanned my skin and made up my face and highlighted my hair. And I felt pretty… or at least normal.
After two years I quit that sorority. I worked at a Christian summer camp and discovered the necessity of Christian community. And after my junior year, I transferred schools and moved across the state. And as much as I’d like to say I stopped changing my hair and appearance to fit in, to feel pretty, to feel secure in my identity… that didn't change.
So stripping my hair away isn't because washing my hair on The World Race has become an increasingly problematic task, although it has.
It isn't even because my beauty is first and foremost internal, although it is.
While man looks at the outward appearance, the Lord looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7).
It's because it represents removing everything that I’ve looked to- my grades, my reputation, and ultimately relationships; that have provided me false security and comfort.
Because I am not defined by my long locks,
My identity is found in Him.
There is only One who provides True security and True comfort.
And that is Jesus Christ.
Emily S, my talented hairstylist and teammate!
Emily P cut her dread after 3.5 years and I cut my hair!
My dear friend Karilyn and I; we decided to cut our hair together.
