Hard to admit but I do cry about it

Disclaimer: sensitive Topic — Hair ! Don’t read if you don’t want to waste your time.

I hate haircuts. Wait, I don’t usually use the word “hate” in my vocabulary, so let me rephrase: I dislike haircuts. I cry after every single one of them. Without fail.

I don’t care how dramatic that sounds—every time I get a haircut, it feels like I’ve lost a part of my personality (maybe that’s actually a bit over the top), but something just feels… wrong. It doesn’t even matter how good the haircut is. The hairstylist could do the most precise, on-point job, and it wouldn’t make a difference. Cut even one centimeter, and it’s just not the same.

It’s not that I’m attached to the length or anything. I’ve come to realize I just don’t like freshly cut hair. It looks too chopped off, too neat, too clean. I love hair that looks like it hasn’t been touched for months—a bit messy and rough on the ends.

Don’t get me wrong—there’s a fine line between good-looking dead ends and completely thinned-out, “you-should-probably-get-a-buzz-cut-and-start-over” hair.

To maintain that line, you sometimes have to cut it just to get back to the good messy part. But I can’t stand it. Even if it’s just the tiniest bit that’s gone, the ends become way too neat, and the form—whatever form I loved before—is just lost.

And if you couldn’t tell, the emotions are fairly fresh. I got a haircut yesterday. I have to say, props to me, I didn’t cry yesterday. I did today, though.

And trust me—there’s no big change whatsoever. But again, the lived-in feeling of my hair is gone.

RIP to my beloved dead ends. You will be missed.

By the way- Don’t worry, the next post is going to be something more insightful and not so vague but to me this was serious today.

Soleila Xx