hair.

For the majority of my life I've had really long hair. I remember my mother would braid and style it before school for me. Sometimes she would make my pigtails so tight that I'd get a head ache halfway through the day, but that didn't matter to me because I thought my hair looked good.

When I hit adolescence I remember using half a bottle of rave hairspray to try and get my bangs to stand up just right. I was obsessed. I crimped, curled, ironed, feathered, layered, colored, and teased my hair. People complimented me quite often on how pretty my hair was. I could never conceive of cutting it all off.

My hair became intricately tied to my self esteem and my self worth. Like many young women, I based my worth on my ability to attract boys. I already felt like I couldn't measure up to other girls my age because I wasn't thin enough, or I was too poor to have the coolest clothes, or because I was too brown. My asset, became my hair.

I wish I could say that this changed for me once I left high school but unfortunately college was more of the same. I remember mentioning to my then boyfriend that I was considering cutting my hair and he threw a fit about it. That was all it took, and I left it alone.

My life changed a good deal after college, and I grew enough confidence to cut my hair to about chin length. Then for a number of years I kept it relatively short but always very feminine.

Over the last few years I've rediscovered (I'm sorry I lost you!!!) my feminist riot grrrl self and with that has come a great deal of personal reflection. Why do I care so much what other people think of me?  How can I unlearn all of this crap!I'm succesful, artistic, creative, and intelligent damnit. No matter what my hair looks like. I am beautiful no matter how I wear my hair.


So for new years, I got my first mohawk. I had to drink a glass of wine during the procedure, but I made it through and while I'm cold as hell (the high tomorrow is 17degrees F) I feel liberated.

So for your enjoyment, mohawk party pictures :)