Green, blue, pink, purple, brown, black, blonde, red—name a color, and my hair has probably taken it on in the past year and a half.

From the purposely asymmetrical Rihanna-style bob I sported when I was 12 to shaving half of my head before my junior year of high school to cutting it all off about six months ago, my hair is constantly changing. Throughout these years of taking cosmetic risks and toying with my style, the thing that surprised me the most was how much other people felt it appropriate to make it their business.

Flash back to high school, sitting in class, twisting the dreads I was forming (on purpose) on the half of my head with hair on it. My teacher looked at me, in front of the class, and said “What the hell are you doing to your head?” I stared at him blankly, not understanding what he was talking about. I thought, I’m listening to your inappropriately opinionated lecture, what do you think I’m doing? He said I was “too pretty” for dreadlocks and told me not to “do that to [my] head.”

I was too pretty for a hairstyle I wanted? What?

I remember the summer I decided to bleach my hair and dye it all bright purple, and the boy I was seeing at the time simply told me “no,” as if he had input.

I didn’t see him for very much longer.

When I decided to shave off half my head, I told my best friend in advance, and she told me not to. I replied with, “But I am, so I’ll let you know how it goes!” I showed up to her house later in the day I shaved it and upon seeing me for the first time she said, “Oh my god it’s actually so cute!” Ha, told ya.

I remember walking through the library during my senior year with that very same hair style, pretending I didn’t hear the boy who called me Skrillex in front of all of his friends. All I could think was, "I wonder if he knows that Skrillex is 100 times more successful than he will ever be in his wildest dreams. Skrillex probably doesn't give a shit and wouldn't give this guy the time of day," so I followed suit.

I never did it for reactions or attention. In fact, the compulsion I feel to maintain the fluid state of my hair style is mostly derived from a mixture of two things: a desire to express my creativity, and boredom. I get bored SO easily. Ask my roommate—she’ll come home from a shift at work and I’ll have completely rearranged the living room for no reason. It’s the same thing with my hair. I like change. I like the freedom to make changes. I’ll take scissors to my own locks without a second thought.

I never understood why it affected other people so much, or why everybody seems to have this extreme emotional attachment to their hair. I know people who cry over getting a few inches trimmed off, when I used to take a razor meant for shaving women's legs to the side of my head. Before people got used to the constant changes I make, people used to get their own emotional attachment to my hair.

Doesn’t that just sound weird?

I never understood why people told me to “never cut my hair,” or that “once I dyed it it wouldn’t be [my] natural color anymore.” Isn’t that kind of the point? People felt like it was necessary to point out my “bad” hair cuts as if they were mistakes and learning experiences that would show me some conventional cosmetic light.

I’m in the awkward I-cut-off-all-my-hair-and-I'm-trying-to-grow-it-out, I-can't-put-it-in-a-ponytail-but-it's-not-short-enough-to-not-bother-me phase. Honestly, I kind of like it.

It’s not bad. I don’t hate it. I don’t regret it like everybody told me I would. It’s just hair.