Driving home from my salon appointment I was thinking about how long it took me to get to that point.
I had been contemplating cutting my waist length hair shorter for the past 4 years. It took me forever to finally feel ready to let go. And somehow I connected this to my virginity. Yes, I’m still a “virgin” at 18. Hell, I haven’t even kissed anyone yet. The average age for loosing your virginity is 17 so I guess you could say I’m a little “behind.”
When you have long hair for such a long time, it becomes a part of you in a way. I formed an emotional attachment with my hair. I thought that I would be less pretty with shorter hair. And I’ve felt that way about loosing my virginity too. I felt that I would no longer be as sexy when I was no longer a virgin. I suppose my religious Christian upbringing had a lot to do with that. (Thankfully, I’ve now recognized that old notion as bullshit.)
There was also the lack of opportunity- I used to be not so attractive. I am confident and I feel pretty now but back in HS, I most certainly did not. But this hasn’t ever really bothered me. Although I expect to face some criticism from people in college, whether it’s from fuqbois who just want to get my panties off or from fellow women who, for some reason, feel the need to “prude shame” me, I’m not too worried about it.
(Update: I’m almost a full semester into college now and I can say with certainty that all the warnings I got from the Christian influences in my life about people trying to tempt or shame or pressure me were false. What I was never told about college social life, but what is probably the most important, is that no one cares. Really, no one cares about what I’m doing. Whether it’s because people are inherently selfish or if it’s just indifference, no one gives a crap about you more than you. As long as you don’t go around being obnoxious or annoying no one will care one way or the other.)
When deciding to finally get my hair cut, I didn’t do it because anyone told me to. I didn’t do it in an act of rebellion because someone told me not to do it. I did it because having shorter hair would be more conducive to the look I want to achieve and the life I want to live. I did it for me, 100%.
I remember a couple years ago in the fall of my junior year of HS, I went to get my hair cut and the stylist cut off too much, in my opinion. I freaked out. I got on the phone for my mom to come pick me up from the salon and I was just an emotional mess. I wasn’t ready.
Of course, it grew back and no one ever really thought it was that short except me. But when I got my hair cut this time, I was excited and 110% ready. I wasn’t quite nervous, maybe a bit “jittery,” but even that word doesn’t seem to fit right.
It was an odd feeling that I had as I watched the clippings of my hair fall to the floor. I wasn’t sad or scared. I didn’t instantly regret it. I hesitate to say that it was a bit of a “shock” because it wasn’t “startling” or “shocking” to me except in a way that made me think, Wow. So I’m really finally doing this now. It’s been a long time coming. I can barely believe I’m here. But even “disbelief” doesn’t feel like the right way to describe it because I knew it was the right choice for me. I simply stared into the mirror watching the lady cut my hair, grinning like an idiot. I felt at peace. I was ready.
I walked out of the salon with a huge shit eating grin on my face, walking on sunshine, feeling light as a feather and fabulous as fuck. That’s exactly how I want to feel after I have sex for the first time.
(LOL I know. You readers more experienced than I are probably thinking ‘Ha! In your dreams ho.’)
It will probably take me a while to get to that point, perhaps even my entire four years of college (or longer. I mean if it took me four years to cut my hair…). And I sincerely hope it’s not with one of my future benefactors; it’s unwise to fuck the person who signs your paycheck because that is tantamount to prostitution. And I am no prostitute.
My little brother told me my hair was “too short.” I don’t agree but it sucks not to be supported sometimes. I know my parents won’t approve of me having sex unless I’m married. It’s hard to feel like a “disappointment” child, but I need to do what’s right for my life, not what makes them feel comfortable or follows their expectations.
I don’t intend to wait until I’m married to have sex; if that’s how things fall into place, so be it. But I know I’ll be ready when I’m ready. In all honesty, if my haircut parallel proves correct, I will stop being a virgin when it is more convenient for me not to be; when being sexually active is better for and more conducive to my life and the life that I want, then I will have sex. And not a second sooner. Because even though no one will be able to tell if I’ve had sex or not just by looking at me, unlike hair, virginity can’t grow back.