One Of My Mane(y) Stories

As I was posting my latest hair cut and colour today on Instagram another picture popped up in the memories of a year ago in another hair cut and colour. Amidst my morning rituals and chores, my haircuts kept popping in my head throughout the years like some yester year's baal baal dekho film and that my friends started an afternoon of obsessing over my hair, trying to rumage through my old pictures, posting them and my favourite hairstyle and stylists and so on. I love my hair, I really do, its funny to go to think about it cause while growing up I never had any hair by choice. Till grade 7 I sported a short boy cut not quite common in those days. It wasn't considered a social norm especially for a Maharashtrian girl. My teachers in school used to actually call me in private and enquire as to why my hair was so short, they used to point out, its as short as the boys if not more and I would happily reply "I like it that way".Then came a time where it was made compulsory to me to grow my hair to fit in some beauty box of societal norms and I had to succumb to the pressure unwillingly a child in 7th grade could only throw so many tantrums. So started my man(e)y grooming days. I grew my hair nice and long, I loved my hair and so did people all around. It gave me confidence and liked myself generally but yet the girl with short hair never did forget. Till date I love to maintain a short crop than a flowing mane. Years passed by, I never cut my hair really short but I always coloured them wild - all shades of blonds and blood reds, their was this rebel streak I would never leave. Then for my wedding I did something drastic I did go for blond highlights and cut them shorter a move just before your wedding which was considered bold and stupid but again that was me comfortable in my skin and comforting myself that my life and my choices were still within me, belonged to me. It was my way of coping with change or adjusting to a new lifestyle. I got quite a lot of fume and love both for my action but I rocked my ethnic bridal look in my bold blonde streak, my way. That I guess started this ritual of experimenting with my hair- so every birthday I do something very different with my hair. Its like a new me on every birthday. I am still that rebel because with ever haircut I do, I get a lot of flax my way but its like my hair, it will grow back, it will be fine. Its a different me but still me. Its like my haircut is in my hand like my life decisions is in my hand. There are so many women even today who are not even allowed to cut their hair their way. Its like even this tiniest of decision plays such a gender role in our society. There are still people I meet who say I have to take permission of my family before I do a haircut or I am not allowed to go short even if I want to. There are women who are judged on the length of the hair they sport or the colour they chose. The hair cut still decides what cut you make in the societal norms. I still wonder, and so does the little girl with short hair. 

On a lighter note to know more about each haircut and hairstylist check out my insta stories - highlights hair and if you do visit any of my hair stylist please do mention me.
You can follow me at my insta handle Bhakti_diaries

xoxo
Bhakti