I don't really know how to start this article because some of you who read it will know me, and some of you wont. For those who don't know me, I am a 20-year-old female—okay, STOP! There's the problem. I am not a 20-year-old female. I am Darby. Yes, those labels could be used to "describe" me, however that is not who I am.
From day one, I've been getting compliments on my hair. I am a natural redhead with natural curls. I've had people say anything from "people would pay a lot of money for the color and the curl" to "some people would kill for your hair". These statements will never make sense to me. From day one people, have either praised me or looked down upon me for my red hair and pale skin, long before I ever knew that hair and skin color "mattered". I was being judged on my looks. "Why do you think I am my hair?" I used to think.
Last November, I committed one of the biggest acts of self-love I've ever done for myself and cut off the two feet of red curly hair that I was "so lucky to have", and it was the single most freeing experience of my life. I felt lighter and happier about myself—more than I had ever felt before. It took cutting the "most beautiful" parts of myself away to truly understand that I was not defined by my hair color, hair length, skin color etc.
I will not say this was an easy journey—it wasn't. Cutting my hair came with the stigmas and labels people use to describe a girl with short hair. There were tears and frustration, but never regrets. I loved my new hair. It hurt so much when people asked me when I was growing it back, or why I ever chose to cut it. I was/am happy with the choice I made to chop my hair off. I am more confident and have more love for myself than ever before. It felt like flowers had begun to grow in the places of my heart that I thought had gone dark a long time ago.
So, this is what I ask of you, dear reader: please do whatever your soul needs to be happy, whether that's cutting your hair, wearing those boy's jeans, or holding that girl's hand. I find labels far more constricting than they are freeing. They are there to explain people, but people can never be explained. We are not the way our hair falls, the way our thigh gaps, or the color of our skin. We all came from atoms—which came from the stars. We are all stardust. We have galaxies inside our brains, meadows of the deepest secrets in our hearts, and sometimes, deep in our bones, we have plains of sadness. How all this can be in one living creature and be "explained" is beyond me. So please, love yourself, do what makes you happy, and set yourself free.
