Tuesday, May 19, 2015


Gorgeous hair is the best revenge.

I remember writing something about my hair a few years back (Yes, when "Glee" was still my guilty pleasure). It was a really long, winding, and heartfelt piece of writing about my hair story that I can't seem to find. (But I did.)

This was the opening image in the original blog post. Hot damn, those brows though.
"The earliest memory I have when I was a little boy girl was that my parents used to dress me up as a boy, since from the start of their marriage, they’ve been longing for one. (Apparently, they succeeded after an “unperceived” fourth try.) They dressed me up in shorts, striped collared T-shirts, rubber shoes (which explains my penchant for rubber shoes and sneaks) and a matching boy cut. I was the perfect little boy, with the sporty kid attitude to boot. I remained in that state of androgynous-ness for a few years. Then grade school happened."

My carefree days in Baguio were characterized by dirty sneakers and sweaty shirts. I rarely wore my hair with clips and bows because they'd just get in the way of playtime. One particular day I remember though, was my pre-school graduation. My mother clipped on a ribbon in my hair, and it didn't do much to stop me from running around the place after the ceremony. 

After that, my hair grew longer. 

During my first four years of grade school, Manay would buy lots of colorful and assorted hair accessories and would pull back my hair so tight that I cried for release. In first grade, my hair was still relatively short, and my best friend back then had long, gorgeous straight hair. She still keeps it that way, as far as I know. 

When I was in sixth grade, that's when my hair first got treatment. My curly mane was straightened to hell and back, and today, I never understood why I went under that treatment, why I chose to wreck something that was good to me. My hair went back to normal in a few months' time, so I guess I still got the last laugh.

"I certainly outgrown the boy cut, but my androgynous-ness… still remained. I happen to like girls at that time, too. (If you remember what this post is about.) Aah, the things and feelings that high school introduces to us."

In my high school days, I was immortalized as the girl with long and curly hair. (And let me tell you that I looked terrible!) Bangs were all the rage in the 2000s, and though I wanted to jump into the bandwagon, my forehead was speckled with acne. That, and my mother said that bangs won't match my curly hair. (I hope I'm being consistent because I know I already said a lot of times that I looked horrible when I was in high school.) 

It was during my third year in high school that I decided that it was a good idea to have a perm. It was only after a quarter of endless teasing and name-calling that I had the curls chopped off. and it was time to begin anew. 

"Putting behind all the heartache at that period of my life, I was faced with the choice of trading my signature curls for a straight mane. We all know the choice I made in the heat of the heartache, don’t we all? (Rising back just in time to make a fool out of the bumbling idiot who dumped me.) I wore my straight tresses for half a year. After that, I had them chopped off because of the high maintenance-ness. Hello, my fluffy hair again." 

My first year of college ended with a high note and I ended it with my curls diluted in medicine, until they were straight, straight, straight. 

When I look back at things, I never understood why straight hair appealed to me so much. I don't understand why it appeals to anyone. But anyways, whatever floats your boat. 

Vincent told me that he thought I looked pretty awesome as I was, but I started coloring my hair like a madman back then. Again, red hair was all the rage back in 2011, and though I pestered my mother to allow me, I never got what I wanted, and instead she convinced me to do light brown instead.

(Yes, I had it colored so much that my hair got so fried.) 

My hair grew and grew and grew, from 2011 to early 2014. 

But it was in early 2014 that I felt like I've had enough of this hair. I remember carefully contemplating about this radical haircut that it almost made me chicken out of my uncle's salon. I stopped coloring my hair after Nyanners remarked that I looked much older because of it.

This was the last shoot I had before chopping off
most of my hair.

"I have to admit, it’s pretty enjoyable to have short hair. It’s low-maintenance and I save a lot of shampoo and conditioner. But y’know, since my hair is fluffy, it’s still kind of hard to maintain and tame. And I’m bothered by the increasing amount of falling hair I gather every time I take a bath. How could I not be bald?"

Eight days after my 21st birthday, I walked out of our uncle's salon a new person. (Or so I thought.) And to be honest, I think I rocked the short hair a lot.

It pained other people that I had chopped off what was three year's worth (length?) of hair, but nevertheless, I went through the entire thing, with my hair tied up and all. When I heard the scissors cut through the thick ponytail, I couldn't help but think oh, yes, I've done it

(And maybe I loved it a bit too much.)

Yes, this is a coincidence.
I've been asked a lot of time why I decided to have my hair cut so short and I simply answered them that it's terribly hot here and it was such a pain to keep. 

But to be honest, I felt like that haircut was a form of emancipation. I felt free-- from myself, from the mistakes I made when I still had it, from the restrictions and people telling me that I can't

Well, I did. And how thrilling is the thought of growing back hair that has never been touched by anyone or anything. 

Apparently, other people weren't too pleased with my rad new haircut (Vincent included). I had no choice but to grow it back since people often associated me with long, wavy hair. I started chronicling my hair growth late-May 2014 and suddenly stopped sometime in October. 

A lot of people have told me that long hair suits me better, but a lot have also said that I rocked the short hair indeed. 

Coloring my hair is off my list as well. I figured that natural is the way to go for me, and after reading Ms. Helga's list of colored hair problems, I thought I'd steer clear from it. I also figured that if I wanted crazy colored hair, I'll stick with a wig. (I have to admit, it was Ms. Helga that got me into the colored hair thing, though I never achieved colors like hers.) 

Besides, I don't think the churchgoers would like seeing their reader with electric pink hair. (It's a tempting thought, though, but I won't push my luck.)

It was only recently that I admitted to myself that I miss my long hair. I still don't miss it that much, but my hair right now is that awkward stage where it's not short anymore, but it's not yet long either.

May | August | October
May 2015
A haircut really is one of the most life-changing decisions a person will ever make, because let's face it: the hair makes a person. It's part of a person's outer shell and receives criticism as much as their faces. 

While it's true that Disney princesses gave us high expectations of hair, I hope that doesn't stop you from wearing your hair in the most regal way possible. 

A wrong haircut won't ruin your entire life (Okay, maybe it will for a while). Somehow it'll teach you a lesson on following trends because once the haircut doesn't go your way, the only consequence you'll ever face is grinning at other people and bearing as they comment about your flyaway hair. 

Like my mom always says: It's just hair. It'll grow back. You gotta wait a while, but it'll grow back, and it'll be good as new. 

And for people with curly hair like me, here's something that'll make you smile. 

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