My Hair, My Rules

Growing up, I never had one length or style that I would keep. My mom always favoured my mid-back length, golden wavy hair, because it looked more feminine and modern in her eyes. On the contrary, my dad was not as picky about hair length or style, unless it was outrageous, inappropriate or immodest. Whether I had straight, chin length hair or wavy hair that touched the bottom of my shoulders, he didn’t care as much as my mom did. As a little girl, my mom or the nanny would always put my hair up in pigtails, half-ponytails, ponytails or I would wear it completely down if I was too lazy to put it up or if my mom wanted to do my hair for me one Sunday morning. My mom never allowed me to have bangs, because she assumed that curly-haired people wouldn’t look appealing in bangs, even though I have always been attracted to bangs on both straight-haired and curly-haired people. The odd time, I would get my hair highlighted and colored during my childhood and adolescence. My dad did not like that, but my mom did not care if my hair was a slightly colored or highlighted. There was just something about bangs that caught my eye: that they looked mature, attractive, doll-like and at the same time youthful and modest. Sometimes, I felt too young and plain without bangs, but I couldn't be free to simply ask the hairdresser to give me bangs with my mom waiting for me in the waiting area at the hair stylist's.

A childhood photograph of me with longer hair without bangs and layers in Winter 2012.

For the remainder of my childhood, my mom and I kept my hair at mid-back length and then I would always chop it off to collar-bone length hair, which would grow out within four months.

One afternoon in May 2012, I visited the hairdresser for my monthly hair clean-up that the family hairdresser and my dad and stepmothers close friend or her colleague would often do for me. As the hairdresser was washing my long, unlayered hair, I came up with a whacky idea: to get the bangs that my mom never permitted me to have. I thought to myself, "Since I am 14 years old and my dad won't care, I'll get bangs whether my mom likes them or not. My hair is curly, but curly haired-women have bangs all the time, so my mom is just overreacting to thinking I would look grotesque in bangs". While I managed to keep my shoulder-length, layered auburn-brown hair, I asked the hair stylist if she was willing to cut bangs. She took my request and cut bangs for me, which made me really happy since I have always wanted bangs.

Here is a picture of me with bangs and layered hair in May 2012.

Once the bangs were cut, I left the hairdressers feeling free and modest rather than someone feeling like a prisoner with unbrushed, tangled and unkept hair. The layers were still there, and my hair was just at the top of my shoulders. My dad, my stepmom, my stepmom's family and my dad's friends loved my hair and thought that I looked "like a real grown-up" with bangs and layered hair. My mom on the other hand was not impressed. My brother was not pleased that I didn’t notify my mom first, and he was on the phone with her as my brother and I were walking to my dad's girlfriends house from our apartment. My mom became insane and started raising her voice at me, while I was speaking to her.

During and after the phone conversation, I thought to myself, "It's just hair, not a brain injury. Why does she have to get all fussy and angry with me?! Like is she berserk?" At the end of the day, my dad and I were happy, so my mom did not need to fuss over my hair. It made me feel more independent and grown-up to have the ability to confidently ask the hairdresser for a new style I wanted.

Here is another photograph of me with bangs and curly hair from June 2012.

After prom, I decided to keep my bangs because I loved them so much. Although I was at summer camp, which meant I didn't have access to a hair stylist for a month, my bangs still managed to stay the same length until I visited the hair dresser in September. I got my bangs trimmed and I finally chopped my hair to almost chin-length hair, because I was sick of my long hair. As I was cutting it off, I thought to myself, "I am in Grade 9, so it's about time that I finally make my own decisions about my hair. My dad likes my hair short, but my mom does not admire it. But what's the big deal? At least, someone from my family respected my short hair. I'm going gto do it anyway and I do not care about my mother's opinion anymore". I was at my breaking point with my mom's extreme opinions and overreactions already. With my short hair, I finally felt like I was entering a new chapter of my life: high school and the teenage years.

A picture of me with short hair and bangs in September 2012.

Like I explained, my hair would grow back four months later. I would cut my hair to neck length and then it would grow back to shoulder- armpit length very quickly. It gave me extra time to savour my short hair while it lasted, before I would be able to savour my long hair again.

During my teenage years, my dad would send me to the hairdressers at least every two weeks on a Tuesday or Friday, to ensure that my hair was well kept and evened out, as he thought it would look more mature and adult-like if I had my hair neat as opposed to curly, fluffy, and pinned-up which my mom adored.

At one point, the hairdresser and I decided to grow my bangs out, which I did not really approve of. However, I went through because I wanted to be open-minded and not make a scene at the hair salon. I still had my bangs, but they were not the full bangs that I enjoyed having for 5 months. They were longer and they were considered, "bangles" which still looked fashionable and attractive on me. The fact that the hair stylist and I decided to grow out my bangs, put my mom at ease. I did not have to argue with my mom as much, or have to deal with her overreactiveness on a regular basis. My dad and my stepmother did not care, as long as I kept my hair tidy and at an appropriate hairstyle.

The teenage years were vital times of self-discovery and the exploration of real womanhood for me, in terms of fashion and hair.

For the remainder of the 9th grade and the entire 10th grade, my hair did not stay at one length. I managed to keep my hair at neck-armpit length with bangles. Most days, I would wear my hair up in half-ponytails, because the thought of having to wear it down all the time irritated me. I abhorred it getting into my face, while I would be walking or sitting in class doing my work. On Saturdays when I would attend synagogue, my dad always made me straighten my hair as he thought, "It would look more lady-like to wear your hair down at synagogue", which I did not mind. I would wear my hair up all the time at school, so it was kind of nice to have a change of style on the weekends. If I did not feel like straightening my hair some days, I would wear my hair in barrettes, but not wear a half-ponytail like I ultimately did during the week. Some days, I would even wear make-up which my dad thought was very "classy". My mom did not approve of me wearing makeup, but oh well, I was adulting and exploring my inner beauty, and she didn't seem to like that too much. She was more fussy than my dad and my step mom were. Part of the reason why I was more attached to my dad than my mom, was because of my hair. He was more nonchalant when it came to my hair and makeup than my mom was.

Here are three photos of me with bangles. One is from 2013 and two are from 2014.

At one point in Grade 10, kids were dying their tresses all different colors of the rainbow: pink, yellow, orange, purple, blue, red, black, brown, silver, white, etc. Many of the kids that I attended high school with either had their hair dyed at the tips or they would dye their full head. A portion of them had highlights or low lights, so I eventually had the idea of dying my hair purple, blue, pink or black. My dad thought that would be "ridiculous" or "inappropriate" for me to go to school or out in public looking like a "living clown", "goof" or "goth". My mom was a bit lenient about the hair coloring, as long as I did not dye my full head outrageous colors. It started out with blonde highlights with a trifle pink streaks that my mom's family friend did for me.

In the winter of 2015, my mom dip-dyed my hair cotton candy pink with the bottle that I purchased at Hot Topic with my birthday money. She did not feel comfortable with me doing it on my own, so she did it for me.

It did not last very long, so my mom took me to the hair stylists to get it recolored. Franco, the family hairstylist that my mom has been going to for years took the hair coloring to a whole other level. Once the cotton candy pink at the bottom faded out, he decided to go a bit passed the tips of my hair and added more color to my bangles. Instead of cotton candy pink, he incorporated some watermelon pink and magenta red, which turned out to be strawberry pink. I loved it so much, that I would even look in the mirror ever 2 minutes to embrace my newly colored hair.

Once the strawberry red at the tips of my hair and bangs faded away, I did not color my hair until August 2015 when Franco (the family hairstylist) decided to take hair coloring to a whole other level again. My mom surmised that he was going to color the tips of my hair blue and purple, but it went a bit beyond the tips, and almost touched the top of my ears. I ended up getting half of my head painted with blue and purple, which transformed me into a living peacock. I adored it and praised Franco for going beyond my mom's boundaries! When I posted a few selfies of myself in "peacock style hair", a great majority of my friends liked my whacky hair. On the other hand, my dad was not a fond of the new hairdo. My mom liked it, and she did not seem to mind it at all. Most importantly, I took pride in my new hair which was all that mattered to me.

The last time I dyed my hair, was in November 2015. My hair went from peacock blue to ginger, which I personally liked. My dad and my stepmother did not mind, but my mom was a bit put-off about it. She thought it was too light for my skin complexion, which I did not really agree with.

In January 2016, my hair went back to the auburn-brown it always was. My hair was banged and layered for the remainder of 2016. For the rest of my adolescence, my hair stayed the same length until I was eighteen years old, when I chopped off all of my hair in anger. I had a bowl cut when I was eighteen years old, which ended up growing out 3 months later, which is pretty fast. Once my hair reached neck length, I decided to grow it back to the length that I had as a child, because I was getting tired of short hair. I got regular trims, and would cut it back to neck or chin length the odd time. I was never rigid when it came to hair length or hairstyle. I was constantly changing my mind based on my personality, the current hair trends, celebrities who inspired me, as well as styles that I randomly explored on the internet.

I am almost 24 years old, which means tI can do whatever I want with my hair. My mom no longers gets mad at me, because I do not live under her roof anymore. My mom got used to me having bangs, which put me at ease. I do not have to fight with her about my hair anymore. I plan to grow my hair out a bit, but it is expected that I will always change my mind, because life is always changing. Nothing stays the same, nor will my hair stay the same. I am a free woman, who will continue to explore her beauty. Hair is a great way for me to keep exploring my beauty. I can never imagine myself having the duty of looking after classic length tresses, which was what I always dreamed of. To satisfy my urges for having long locks without the responsibility, I wear hair pieces. I have clip-in ponytails that I enjoy wearing the odd time. Exploring various hair styles and lengths also gives me a sense of independence, in a way that I can be free to determine what looks better on me, without having to argue with my mom. I think all these hairstyles that I had in my teenage years also did the trick! Now I determined what looks best on me: different kinds of bangs, layered hair, darker colored hair, neck and mid-back length. For me, life is too short to not look beautiful and unique. Hair does nto only give me a sense of independence and purpose, but is also a form of creative expression for me.

Take a look at some more hair photos of me from 2015-2018.