It’s quarantine and I cut my own hair

This is the story of a girl who had yet to learn about the virtue of patience.

A few years ago, after having recently moved to Germany, probably still trying to cope with so many life changes and new time zones, I had an impulsive desire to cut my own hair. Convinced my broken German wouldn’t be enough to properly explain to the lady at the salon what I wanted, and armed with the infinite possibilities youtube offered, I felt confident in my decision. I had, after all, everything I needed: a pair of scissors, a mirror, and the internet. What’s a millennial girl to do.

The truth is, I desperately needed a haircut. Sometimes the results don’t justify the means though. After contorting myself trying to reach the back of my own head and getting extremely frustrated halfway through the process, I realised that perhaps having a super long hair that made me look like Donna from That 70’s Show wasn’t so bad. It was actually quite good when I compared to my new do. Anyway, it was too late, the damage was done. I facetimed my family, everyone thought I did a good job, people around me didn’t think it looked terrible. Life went on, I went to see a friend in Paris and the pictures from that weekend really highlight the awful cut, but it’s all just a funny memory by now. My hair is fully recovered.

Here’s the thing. I love having long hair, I really do. But then I wake up one day and decide it’s too long and hard to manage. That’s how my decision process always goes when it comes to my hair: completely on a whim. I think of it and bam, get it cut. The stakes aren’t that high, it grows back so fast.

But it’s quarantine and the hair was getting out of control. A video popped up on my youtube homepage. A professional hairstylist teaching desperate people how to cut their own hair during quarantine. I don’t even know this dude, I don’t know how the video ended up on my homepage. It must be destiny. I watch the whole thing and it’s fascinating. It actually doesn’t look that hard. I sleep on it.

The next day I sit in front of the mirror and after hours I have really short hair. It was arduous work and I swear to myself I’m never doing this again. It’s simply not worth it. But the hair doesn’t look so bad. Except if you look at it longer than five seconds you’ll noticed that it’s very much uneven. I start to freak out but it’s too late for that kind of reaction. I calm myself down and remember that no one will even get to see this mess of a haircut. The world didn’t end. When hair salons are back in business I’ll get it properly fixed.

The lesson here is that cutting your own hair is a lot of work. You can’t just give up halfway through, you gotta commit to the end. It’s all about patience. Patience to do the whole thing yourself. Patience to wait until going to hair salons and letting the right people do it is a thing again. Either way, all you need is patience. I didn’t learn my lesson the first time around. You know what they say about making the same mistake twice.

Well, I’m still learning. I’m only human.

Pretending to be reading on the outside, freaking out on the inside.

It’s quarantine and I cut my own hair

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