An Emotional Haircut

Last week, I got my hair cut. I go to a local lady, just over the bridge; she works out of a converted shipping container in the back garden. Like most hairdressers, she has a different colour and style every time I see her. I like going, whereas in the past I have hated going to the hairdressers almost as much as I hate going to the dentist. It was always such a struggle, so awkward. I’m not good at making small talk. I’m not good at talking to people I don’t already know. Some women love getting their haircut; the bustle and warmth of the salon, the wall to wall mirrors, the other women gossiping while they all get their make-overs and walk out feeling better than they did going in. I’ve always hated it: hated sitting in that chair with the unflattering cloak around me; hated staring at my own reflection; hated waiting for the same words to spill out of the hairdresser’s mouth when they start to handle my hair. <a href="https://medium.com/modern-women/an-emotional-haircut-b02866cd62c3">Read More</a>