Why do I always have to grieve everything

I cut my hair

It’s morning and a few minutes ago, I finally told someone who isn’t my partner that I miss my old hair length. Last week, it was me asking if I made a mistake by cutting it. This week, I’m having a random panic attack at 4am scrolling through my snapchat memories, seeking for comfort or whatever. I guess I wanted to see how much time it would take to get back to that length…maybe 3 years. I remember being asked why my hair always looked the same length, people didn’t seem to understand the concept of shrinkage. Then 4 years after and I’m cutting it all off but now they tell me that they wished they had the length I had. But it’s true what they used to say, I had length but the volume was mostly at the roots and not the ends. Only my hairdresser knew how long my hair was because she knew my hair to an extent.

My mom replied to my confession with “it’ll grow back.” And it will, but it’ll take 3 years to get that length back. I don’t know why I miss it, maybe it’s because I had given so much to my hair and in return got tortured by dry scalp, dandruff and constant itching. I couldn’t carry braids for more than a month. I couldn’t participate in the challenge of keeping cornrows in for months just to get length retention. My scalp was is sensitive, demanding. It got to a point where I had to wash my hair even in braids every week and I received the shock of my life when I found out some people didn’t bother to even when they had braids for over a month, they didn’t have the same scalp as I did. Hairstyles like cornrows and threading dried out my scalp. Oils aggravated my dandruff. Why couldn’t I just have a scalp that loved me in return?

Before I finally decided to cut my hair, I had numerous crash outs and episodes of extreme itching that were almost unbearable. I am someone is who prone to living in constant anxiety, double checking my steps, worrying about future consequences, it’s all so crippling. I chickened out many times until I finally made the decision by myself. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’d go bald but I still want to be able to braid my hair, have a versatile look. So I settled for a low fro, low enough for me to wash and go without the stress of sectioning or staying in the bathroom for long.

Whilst I sat on the floor combing my hair out and waiting for my sister to come help me cut it, I had an epiphany and so I wrote-

“As I contemplate cutting a chunk of my hair off, I feel myself doubting if this is the best move. Maybe I can manage the itchiness and dandruff without cutting. Maybe I can and just keep the length. I feel myself questioning my decision despite experiencing series of frustrating episodes over the condition of my scalp. It made me realize how much I hold on to things. I’m so scared of making the wrong move that I don’t make any move at all. I always feel like every situation can be managed even when I’m frustrated. This big decision made me see how I’m like this in many areas of my life so I endure situations that I could free myself from.”

And I long for what I have been freed from. Am I crazy?

It’s a pattern with me, yeah. In the past, I’ve been in friendships that should’ve ended a long time before it eventually did. I would always run, try to manage it even when I know it’s not aren’t good for me. We’d have this back and forth until I in what would seem like an impulsive move, finally cut the friendship off. Why is it so hard to let go? Why do I get so attached that even in my physical detachment from things, relationships, I still grieve their loss deeply. Do I really miss my hair? Do I really miss these friendships that could’ve blossomed into something mutually rewarding? Or am I just someone who doesn’t know how to truly let go. Maybe this is a normal emotion, healthy even. But I would just rather move on and feel like the decisions I made are THE best decisions for me. I don’t want to grieve them anymore. When that first round of scissor chopped the first of six sections, I felt light, relieved even.

The funny thing is I brought out my journal to highlight the pros and cons of having short hair vs a longer hair. Having short hair had more pros especially when it comes to managing my scalp and giving it the attention it needs, but a part of me thinks I would’ve been able to do this with longer hair too. I would’ve, but it wouldn’t have been this easy. In Severance, a severed person who attempts reintegration experiences this fast switch between their innie life and their outie life. It’s almost like going in and out of a trance. Maybe I’m being extreme here but it’s how I feel sometimes. I’d be on the road and one minute I can feel the weight of my old fro packed in a bun, then almost immediately the weight drops and I’m in the present again.

I decided to cornrow my hair just so I can easily wear my wigs before I have to tend to my scalp again. While at my hairdressers, I realized that my dandruffs were still very much in the picture despite the care I’ve been given my hair lately. What then was the whole point? Or maybe I’m speaking too soon, I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’ve gotten to the place of acceptance but for me, there’s always something to overthink about.

Anxiety. Nostalgia. Defeat.

I guess I’ll grapple with this until I finally accept that what is done is done and all I can do is love and nurture my hair in whatever state it’s in.