Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Just Me

A year ago this month, I cut my hair into a pixie.

It wasn’t supposed to be so short.

She wasn’t supposed to cut so much.

But it was cut.

And what followed was a year of, if I’m being honest, a whole lot of awkward.

Here’s how the year went down.

Month One:

·       

        This is nice. 

   Something new. Something young.

    I like how it shapes my face.

   I look more feminine. 

   So many styles! 

   I think I just might keep it short.





Month Two:

 I can’t go outside. 
 
I can’t.

What’s considered an unhealthy amount of time for someone to spend in their room? 

No, I don’t want to go out to eat , just bring the food to me!

Maybe if I put some gel in it…


Month Three 






My google search history looked something like this:

How not to look like a boy with a pixie cut

        Does putting egg in your hair really make it grow faster?

   How to Outgrow a Pixie Cut Without Wanting to Hide in Every Dark Corner

    
      What's considered an unhealthy amount of time for someone to spend in their room?




Month Four





I discovered hoodies. 

And beanies. 

Lots of beanies. 

And probably still spent an unhealthy amount of time in my room. 






Month Five 


 It got really shaggy,

 So when I went in for a trim....

·         Though it looked good...

   I was basically back to square one with growing it out



Months Six  Seven and Eight


awkward mullet stage

   no pics were given those days


Month Nine





Awkward slicked back ponytail stage

and whatever face that is...















After months 10 and 11 it grew out pretty decent and manageable











And well here I am.

Month twelve.

And what have I learned?





Well...
  1.  Santa Cruz is probably the best place to live if you’re the “make decisions on a whim” type. A lot of pixies... A LOT
  2. Bravery is a wonderful quality to have, but it has to be met with good judgement. (otherwise you end up putting egg in your hair to make it grow faster)
  3. Putting egg in your hair will NOT make it grow faster. (It makes you smell like an omelet)
  4. A mullet is NOT ok.
  5. A mullet that smells like an omelet is worse
  6.   Hair grows. Like we do. And if we let it, it grows stronger. Smoother. More resilient. Above all, it grows natural. There's a lesson in there somewhere. I'll let you figure it out
  7. We can, and we do,  hide behind our appearance. Behind an image of ourselves that we spend so much time and money in creating. My hair before the cut was actually pretty dry and dead. Fried from too many colors that I tried on. Colors that weren’t my own. Cutting my hair was like ripping off a mask. When I looked in the mirror and didn’t see me, my long flowing hair, I realized I valued more the image I was presenting people. And when that image was cut off, I had nothing to hide behind. It was just me. And all I had to give people was just me. I had to ask myself, is just me enough?
  8. Spending unhealthy amounts of time in your room forces you to ask deep questions. 
  9. Just me is just enough.
 It took me a while to figure that last one out. If you're wondering if just you is just enough, you ARE! Give yourself patience to figure this out. Give yourself patience to grow.

A mullet is still not ok.




Friday, August 1, 2014

Summer Sundancin

I like to set a light mood for these blogs, usually that means an awkward story about my name.


Here goes,
     
 So I had the pleasure of observing the Native American way of life out on a reservation this summer. As with any cross cultural experience, my guard was up and I was very mindful about what I said so as not to offend anyone. When I was introduced to the chief, he looked at me straight in the eye and with no shame at all said, 

“what ARE you?”

My friend couldn't contain herself and started crying with laughter, as I tried explaining to him that I was of Mexican descent, living in California. Then we told him my name and then he started crying with laughter.

Since they didn't allow cameras on the reservation, here's a picture in San Miguel Allende. I'll write more about that in a later post.


Anyways, here’s a poem,

As you read it, remind yourself of who YOU are and what sort of things DEFINE you. What sort of things don't need to define you?


You can find yourself when you find a home
When you know where you belong
So why do we wander
Why do we wait?
What are we looking for?
Will we find it out in the seas?
Or waiting at the shore