December 1, 2015. I cut my hair off. All that's left is inch-long hair to cover my small female head. Why did I do it?
Well, I had a good long length going and a while back I had decided that when it was long enough I would have it cut to donate (lookup Wigs for Kids if you're curious about that). For two reasons.
The first being I hated having to take care of and style my hair all the time and dealing with tangles and static and all that jazz. Sure I also loved my hair. It had a delightful natural wave and highlights of which many girls were jealous. So I figured, I don't want it any more so why not give it to someone in need of hair?
The other reason that during the time my hair was growing in from a previous (though not as drastic) cut, the man that I was engaged to left me and I had to learn from the pain of loss and the emotional turmoil of rejection after acceptance. I had to grow again, to figure out who I was seeing as how I had gotten lost in the relationship. Before I had become so wrapped up in me serving him and not serving alongside him. While the hair grew I had become someone new. I had been stabbed with a shard of ice and left to find my own way. But the Consuming Fire held me, let me cry and scream away the pain, then picked me back up to stand again.
I don't think many would describe me as fearful. But for the longest time I was extremely insecure. I learned to hide it with a spunky, playful, helpful outward personality. I play the slightly naive, eager to please young woman. I smile, laugh, and make friends easily. Few do I actually let see my negatives: my moments of fear, worry, anger, sorrow. I still feel insecure from time to time and keep it hidden away, trusting little, even of myself. And I justified it with telling myself that those not-so-enjoyed-socially parts of my personality were best kept hidden because I could serve people best with optimistic extrovert me and not the reflective introspective me. But I struggled because both are me. Both need to surface. Both need to see the sun from time to time. Yet I forced part of me to the shadows where none save God alone could touch it.
Yes, I was insecure. I still am from time to time. But not nearly as much anymore. God changed me, made me stronger. He reassured me that He still loves me even if everyone who matters to me who lead me to believe that I matter to them were to cut me down, cut me off, walk away, betray me. He would still be there for me. Even in the moments I feel so desperately alone and insecure that those I'm beginning to trust may or may not continue to be kind to me.
Yes. When I cut my hair, it was a symbol of freedom. It is a daily reminder that I should not be afraid. That I CAN cut away my personal barriers and force myself to step out and hold my head high and my hand out regardless of the outcome. I cannot hide my face behind my hair. I must not hide myself away from the world. God is my creator. He put me in this world for a reason. He made me beautiful and gave me gifts to serve others with. Rejection and betrayal have and will happen. But I am not afraid to drop my shield if that means someone else will and can be truly blessed by our connection. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, God is with me (Psalm 23:4). He is and always will be my strength to endure the pain that some will inflict on me out of hatred or even their own insecurity.
My head is "vulnerable" now. You can see every angle. Every curve of my skull under what little hair I have left from the cutting (my hair has only been so short once before - when I was a tiny baby). Here I am. This is me. My new appearance says. And so I am as well. I present myself - a vulnerable, flawed human being. A child of God holding out the Light to all. Living a life that seeks after Him. I'm wearing it on my skin, on my head now. See me. See Him in me.
In God, I am secure.
Well, I had a good long length going and a while back I had decided that when it was long enough I would have it cut to donate (lookup Wigs for Kids if you're curious about that). For two reasons.
The first being I hated having to take care of and style my hair all the time and dealing with tangles and static and all that jazz. Sure I also loved my hair. It had a delightful natural wave and highlights of which many girls were jealous. So I figured, I don't want it any more so why not give it to someone in need of hair?
The other reason that during the time my hair was growing in from a previous (though not as drastic) cut, the man that I was engaged to left me and I had to learn from the pain of loss and the emotional turmoil of rejection after acceptance. I had to grow again, to figure out who I was seeing as how I had gotten lost in the relationship. Before I had become so wrapped up in me serving him and not serving alongside him. While the hair grew I had become someone new. I had been stabbed with a shard of ice and left to find my own way. But the Consuming Fire held me, let me cry and scream away the pain, then picked me back up to stand again.
I don't think many would describe me as fearful. But for the longest time I was extremely insecure. I learned to hide it with a spunky, playful, helpful outward personality. I play the slightly naive, eager to please young woman. I smile, laugh, and make friends easily. Few do I actually let see my negatives: my moments of fear, worry, anger, sorrow. I still feel insecure from time to time and keep it hidden away, trusting little, even of myself. And I justified it with telling myself that those not-so-enjoyed-socially parts of my personality were best kept hidden because I could serve people best with optimistic extrovert me and not the reflective introspective me. But I struggled because both are me. Both need to surface. Both need to see the sun from time to time. Yet I forced part of me to the shadows where none save God alone could touch it.
Yes, I was insecure. I still am from time to time. But not nearly as much anymore. God changed me, made me stronger. He reassured me that He still loves me even if everyone who matters to me who lead me to believe that I matter to them were to cut me down, cut me off, walk away, betray me. He would still be there for me. Even in the moments I feel so desperately alone and insecure that those I'm beginning to trust may or may not continue to be kind to me.
Yes. When I cut my hair, it was a symbol of freedom. It is a daily reminder that I should not be afraid. That I CAN cut away my personal barriers and force myself to step out and hold my head high and my hand out regardless of the outcome. I cannot hide my face behind my hair. I must not hide myself away from the world. God is my creator. He put me in this world for a reason. He made me beautiful and gave me gifts to serve others with. Rejection and betrayal have and will happen. But I am not afraid to drop my shield if that means someone else will and can be truly blessed by our connection. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, God is with me (Psalm 23:4). He is and always will be my strength to endure the pain that some will inflict on me out of hatred or even their own insecurity.
My head is "vulnerable" now. You can see every angle. Every curve of my skull under what little hair I have left from the cutting (my hair has only been so short once before - when I was a tiny baby). Here I am. This is me. My new appearance says. And so I am as well. I present myself - a vulnerable, flawed human being. A child of God holding out the Light to all. Living a life that seeks after Him. I'm wearing it on my skin, on my head now. See me. See Him in me.
In God, I am secure.
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