Bangs

All throughout preschool and elementary school I had thick dark bangs. Every photo from my childhood is me with my short raven hair and those long bangs. Once in the third or fourth grade I got sick of my bangs, and wanted them to be gone. My older sister was my idol, and I wanted to be just like her–even including her hairstyle. So, in an attempt to make my bangs vanish I grabbed a pair of small scissors and started to cut off parts of my bangs. An hour or two later my mother found me with my bangs incredibly short and jagged. We rushed to the salon first thing the next morning, to find someone who could make my hair situation at least a tiny bit better. I don’t really remember how it came out, although I bet my bangs were incredibly short. I told my hairdresser, Fran, this story just as she was about to cut my hair. The decision to get bangs was sudden. I had been wanting to get bangs for a while now, and I was hoping they would hide all of my baby hairs (there is an extremely unusual amount). I asked some of my friends the day before through snapchat, and out of around 20 people, one said that they would look nice (which is 5%). Then around 21% said it depended on the kind or style of bangs I would get. Everyone else said straight up “No.” But in the chair looking at my self in the mirror, something sparked in me that said “why not?”. I hesitantly told Fran I would like thin bangs. My statement wasn’t very clear nor confident but she could see that I really did want to make the change. Fear was just clouding my voice. “I’m just gonna cut” she said and she then began to do so. So now I have bangs, and it’s weird because I almost feel like a little girl again. I have always associated bangs with my childhood. And if you saw how thick and large my bangs were and how round my face was it would be hard to imagine me without them. Basically, 45% of my face was covered by those bangs. I got a lot of compliments today, and the most common response either includes cute or adorable. And I’ve been told that they suit me perfectly. And I can’t help but agree. I feel like these bangs are a symbol, and the mark of growth yet remembrance of my past and all that I have learned. I just wish my grandmother would have been here to see this. She would have absolutely loved it, no doubt. She would have taken a hundred pictures by now, bought me styling products even though I usually don’t even have time to brush my hair (benefits of naturally straight hair). And yes, I realize I have just rambled for about a page on just bangs. Because why not?