This is what it looked like last time I got it cut.
I hate getting my hair cut. It makes me anxious just thinking about getting my hair cut. And of course, like most anxieties, there is a reason why I feel this way. And here it is:
My Aunt Linda is a hairdresser, and she was the only one to ever cut my hair until we moved to Tucson when I was 12-years-old. I get to Tucson, and sooner or later I needed a haircut and I was a little nervous about someone cutting my hair who wasn't my Aunt. It was an experience I'd never had before and I didn't know what to expect (I wasn't like sweating bullets or anything, I was just a little uneasy).
So, we go to Super Cuts, or Great Clips, or some other generic place, and a man is cutting my hair, and you know what he says to my 12-year-old self? A 12-year-old who is highly insecure and and not at all comfortable in her own skin, like most preteens? He says "Did you fart?" I hated even just typing that. I was so mortified that he said that to me. I almost got out of the chair and bolted.
Since then, I have dreaded getting my hair cut. I know that no professional stylist would ever say anything like that to me now, and that that guy was just a weirdo, but I cannot help it. Going to the salon, even as an adult, makes me feel insecure. So, I rarely get my haircut. And when I do get it cut, the stylist admonishes me for waiting so long, which makes me more self conscious, which makes me put off going back to the salon, and it's just a vicious cycle.
And so, I am trying to overcome this craziness of mine. Like I said, I have been to the salon twice in 3 months (which is more than I'd go in a normal year). Hopefully I'll keep it up. Although, to be honest, just writing about this has made me a little anxious. Maybe I'll just learn to cut my own hair.