Rapunzel's Haircut

Rapunzel sat with her back against the cool stone wall, tapping her foot impatiently and gazing out of the window into an impossibly blue sky. She was bored. She had already eaten, but glanced over at the small kitchen anyway. What else was there to do? The witch had brought her food rations just yesterday, but she was already bored with that too. It was always the same. Only whatever food the witch chose to bring her. She had no say in what came. The blackbird had brought her a piece of chocolate biscuit once. She wished for one of those. She sighed and glanced back out the window. She wasn’t really hungry anyway.

Rapunzel had been in this tower for as long as she could remember. Her only contact with another living soul, the witch who had imprisoned her here. ..and the blackbird. The blackbird had been coming for 6 months now. He brought her small gifts from the outside world and delighted her with stories that brought her heart to life in a way that made her happy and sad all at once.

She had known only this life, this tower. And so it had simply not occurred to her to want more. The witch warned her of the dangers of the outside world. And though she had imprisoned her, she also kept her safe. She tended to her needs, brought her food and supplies. Rapunzel was dependent on the witch for her survival, for there was no way down, save for the way that the witch herself came and went. Every few days she would beckon from far below and Rapunzel would brace her hair around a post by the window and cast down her long, golden plait, for the witch to climb as a rope.

Meek and compliant, Rapunzel was ever loathe to keep the old witch waiting, or to ask for anything more than was given to her. It was worth neither the stony, disapproving silence, nor the violent anger of the old crone, who was prone to breaking Rapunzel’s few treasured possessions when she was displeased.

And so, Rapunzel learned to keep quiet, to do as she was told and to suppress any desires for herself. She knew herself to be a stupid, worthless girl and feared what would ever become of her, were she forced out into the world to fend for herself. Here she had safety and comfort. The witch brought her food and allowed her a place in the world. For this she did mending and sewing for the witch, who often grumbled about the quality of her work.

Rapunzel set to re-braiding her hair. The witch was kind enough to bring herbs and tonics to keep her hair strong and lustrous. Where it to weaken and break, Rapunzel knew it would mean death, for no more could the witch ascend the tower to bring food. Her hair was her lifeline. A vital part of her. She took meticulous care of it. Indeed, it was the only thing of use about her. The only thing that made her special.

Rapunzel had been afraid when the wise, old blackbird had first appeared. She had soon grown to love her feathered visitor. He held such affection for her that he brought small trinkets and flowers and regaled her with stories of courage and wonder. Unsure of what the witch would make of her visitor, Rapunzel made a space behind a loose tile to hide her special keepsakes. The blackbird was her one secret. The only thing in her life not controlled by the witch.

The blackbird was a wise and resourceful old bird. He saw in Rapunzel the beauty and potential that was plainly there to see and was saddened by her plight. Through the stories he shared with her, the blackbird shrewdly planted the seeds of empowerment within the girl. He asked questions of her that prompted thoughts she could never have imagined having. She began to dream and those dreams spoke to her soul. For the first time in her life, she wanted more.

Rapunzel rose from her seat and walked to the windowsill. She gazed hungrily out at the surrounding landscape. Although it looked arid and thorny, she wondered how it might be to simply wander freely about in it. Certainly, her life as she knew it held few surprises. She looked further, to the impenetrable woods and the impassable boundary of hills and cliffs. This is what edged her reality. She could not conceive of what might lie beyond them. She had known only this. Yet, the very keepsakes that the blackbird brought to her, spoke of possibility. Rapunzel drew out the folded page of a book. Printed upon it was depicted such beauty, she could hardly dare to believe that such a place might exist. The witch had taken great pains to instil in her a fear of the unknown and a belief that the world outside her window was unspeakably cruel. And yet, the picture came from somewhere. Hope fanned in her breast, but for what she could not say.

"More."

She spoke the word aloud, embarrassed when she noticed an eye regarding her with amusement. “Blackbird!” she exclaimed, “You have startled me, arriving so suddenly.”

“My apologies, my dear.” chuckled the bird. “I have a gift for you.” he said, drawing a flower from the fold of his wing. “It grows wild among the rocks, its beauty flourishing despite the bleakness of its surroundings. It reminded me of you.” Rapunzel accepted the flower shyly, smelling it briefly and tucking it into her hair. “You are too kind to me.” said Rapunzel. “Well does the witch let me know that I am exceedingly plain and ordinary.”

The crafty blackbird cocked his head. “Well, I am but a bird” he replied modestly “and perhaps do not know of such things, but I find you to be the equal of the fairest maidens found in the surrounding lands. I have already told you that your needlework is of a very fine standard. Among the best I have seen. Perhaps you could consider that the witch is wrong.” Rapunzel was touched by his kind words. She thought him a most extraordinary and clever bird and thought that he knew a great deal. If he thought so highly of her, then perhaps she could believe she was not so bad.

She smiled as the thought warmed her. “Well, perhaps I could.” she conceded gently.

“Indeed, anything you choose to believe can be so. You need only to choose it.” He regarded her with a meaningful stare. Rapunzels’ eyes widened at the boldness of his words. Could it be true?

He had spoken of this many times, but could it really be possible to simply choose differently?

To truly be different? Oh, if only!

“Why not?” asked the blackbird. “What is it that keeps you from freeing your mind from the beliefs that limit your worth?” She hadn’t an answer for that. “But, the witch..” she began.

“Has no dominion over your mind.” finished the blackbird. Well, this was true enough, she realised. In her dreams, she was free and beautiful and beloved. What if it could truly be so?

“Tell me of the life you dream,” said the blackbird, as if reading her thoughts. “Make it wonderful in every detail. Perhaps in the speaking aloud, it will be drawn to you and become real.”

Rapunzel loved this game. “Oh, the dream me is beautiful and smart. I live in a village with people and animals and flowers, like the ones in your pictures and I earn a living of my own by sewing beautiful dresses. I am free to come and go as I please and I live in a cottage on the ground, surrounded by roses and honeysuckle. I am known by others and I am loved.” She exhaled.

“Why do you not leave this witch’s tower and go seek the life you want?” enquired the bird.

“But, how could I?” replied Rapunzel. “Truly I am stuck here.”

“How could you not?” asked the bird, “when your heart yearns for it so?”

“But what if there is no place for me, such as I seek?” she asked, expressing her greatest fear.

“And what if there is even better?” he countered.

“What if I find this place, and what the witch has told me is true and I am rejected? It would be worse than having never known it. And I would be truly alone.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she felt the pain in her heart as if this were already true. “I have not the heart to leave what I know to chase a dream. I am afraid!” she admitted.

“In any case’” she sniffed. “It is impossible. There is no way for me to leave this tower.”

“Why could you not leave by the same means as the witch?” ventured the bird. Rapunzel almost laughed aloud at the thought. “How can I climb down my hair when it is attached to my own head?” She shook her head at his obvious failure to understand her situation.

“Well, truly it would be impossible while it was attached to your head.” he agreed. “That situation would need to change.” As Rapunzel’s gaze shifted to meet his, her eyes fell on the silver scissors lying atop her sewing basket and she froze. The thought of severing her hair brought with it a fear that eclipsed all thought. The witch herself had often used it as a threat when she was displeased.

It was the means by which she would abandon Rapunzel, leaving her to starve to death in the tower.

“Surely, if the witch were to cut off your hair and take it with her, you would be in trouble.” conceded the blackbird. “But, if you were to cut it yourself, why could you not be the one to have the use of it? To choose your own destiny?”

Confusion and hope began to loosen the grip of irrational fear on her mind, and Rapunzel for the first time considered the implications of his words. He spoke the truth. If she were to tie her plait around the post by the window, she could surely climb down herself and leave this place. She had seen it done by the witch so many times. This time the fear that overtook her was that she had wasted so many years by not realising this sooner.

“How could I have not seen this before?” she sobbed. Her panicked mind grasped for ways to restore balance, as her small world suddenly opened up beneath her feet, terrifying her with its vast openness. One by one, it presented fears and excuses, reasons to stay right where she was, with what she knew. Taking possession of her own hair would make her suddenly powerful. She, who had always believed herself to have no hope.

“You have kept yourself in this tower, these long years,” said the bird, gently. “For the means to escape have always been available to you. You chose to believe what the witch told you to be true. You feared more your own power and the responsibility of your own life, than a wasted life trapped in a tower.”

The truth of his words pulled her off balance and she felt dizzy with shame and fear.

“There was certainly a time when you needed to trust the witch, in order to be safe, but that time has long passed.” said the bird. “Will you now choose to take charge of your own life and take action to free yourself from your prison?”

Rapunzel’s heart thudded in her chest. Thoughts careened wildly in her head. What if she failed? What if she fell? What if she succeeded? Then what? Once separated from her hair, who would she be? It had always featured so importantly in her life. One thing she knew. She would no longer be imprisoned in a tower. She would be free. And so she decided to take charge of her own life.

Just like that.

She gathered her things into a bundle and took a last look around the tower room which was all she had ever known. With a deep breath, she gathered her courage and cut through the thick, golden braid with which she had tethered herself to this life. She felt at the severed ends in wonder, smoothing out the loose hair. She felt strangely liberated already. With her heart pounding, Rapunzel took up the length of her hair from the floor and tied it securely around the post by the window. She sat on the ledge, hesitating as she considered the long distance to the ground.

“Whose permission do you need?” probed the blackbird.

“Truly, none.” she admitted and swung herself over the edge, finding her way down to solid ground beneath her feet. She gasped as she adjusted to the sudden freedom. The blackbird flew up and loosened the braid from around the post with his beak. He dropped it down to her and she gathered it up, questioningly. “It is yours.” he affirmed. “You should have use of it. You may sell it to a wig-maker in the next village. It will give you money to buy a horse and supplies.”

Rapunzel smiled as she hugged the golden softness to her. “Follow me,” said the bird. “For I know the terrain here-abouts. I will guide your steps as you make your way. You need not fear the future, for you have all that you need within yourself already. And it was always there.”

For once, Rapunzel chose to believe him and she walked out into the world as the Master of her own destiny. The distance she had already come, away from who she had been was not one that could be measured in leagues. From here, it would get easier. And there would be chocolate biscuits.

The end.