Got a bad haircut. Can I still love myself?
I got a haircut last night. My first haircut in a year.
My girlfriend says I look like this:
I think I look more like this:
Whether or not it’s true, I definitely FEEL like that.
When I got home and finished taking a shower, I looked at myself in the mirror and got angry. I HATED the haircut.
So many dark, angry, fearful thoughts ran through my brain.
“The guys at work are going to think I look ridiculous.”
“Only an unstable, immature, try-hard kinda guy would get this haircut.”
“This finally proves how unattractive I really am.”
To name a few.
I felt so embarrassed about how I looked. I was scared as hell about what other people were going to think of it. When my girlfriend tried to FaceTime me, I even pointed the camera at the ceiling so she wouldn’t see what I looked like.
But I think the anger and was much deeper than the haircut itself. It was about the experience of getting the haircut — of letting myself get that haircut.
Here’s what I mean…
I went to the barber (a woman) with a specific idea of what I wanted my hair to look like. I showed her an old picture of me as an example.
She suggested looking at some other styles to see if there was anything I’d like even more. So I pulled up Google and looked up “medium mens hair trends.”
We scrolled through, and I found a few I liked. We picked one, and she got started.
After she’d buzzed the side of my head, I realized I should tell her: “I hate using products in my hair. I want a cut that will look good even if I don’t do anything to style it.” And I really meant it. I hate fussing with my hair. I want to wash it, dry it, and go. No gel or mousse or any of that crap.
But she said, “If you want it to look like the photo, you’re gonna have to put product in it. It’s so easy!”
And here’s where I had a choice. I could stand up for what I wanted and maintain that I simply was not going to start using products in my hair. Or I could say “Ok, maybe I’ll try it” in order to avoid confrontation.
Obviously I ended up doing the latter — avoiding confrontation.
I rationalized it in the moment by telling myself I was being “open minded,” and maybe I could start using product after all. Because hey, maybe I’m just being stubborn. Maybe she has a point.
But clearly, given how angry and resentful I felt afterwards, that wasn’t the right choice.
I feel like I let her walk right over me. Like I had a chance to maintain my boundaries and I didn’t. I just let her break right through them. I didn’t want to disagree with her and stand up for what I wanted, so I let her dictate the experience and take control of my reality (how I present myself to the world).
I was mad at her. But really I was mad at myself. And ashamed. Because I felt weak. Like I was a pushover. Too agreeable. Classic “nice guy.”
And as I fumed last night about this, I wondered: Can I still love myself, even when I get a bad haircut?
And that question helped me realize this haircut was a gift. It’s not the haircut I wanted. But the experience taught me about myself. It highlighted some aspects of myself I wouldn’t have been as aware of otherwise.
For example, it showed me how weak my boundaries are when it comes to asking for what I want. It showed me how much I actually care what other people think about me — how much I’m afraid of what other people think of me. And it showed me how full of shame I am, and how ready I am to let a little thing like a bad haircut act as evidence that I’m less than other people.
A bad haircut seems like such a trivial, overly dramatic thing to get angry about. I know. But part of having compassion for yourself — being self loving — is accepting your emotions as they come. Not judging them harshly for being irrational or immature or trivial.
I felt dumb for getting mad about it. But you know what? Fuck that. I let my boundaries get crossed and I let someone else take control of my reality. I’m angry! And that’s ok.
My anger is teaching me a hell of a lot about myself. And that’s a gift.