Hair, Don’t Care


Soft amber, chocolate, and almond melt from my scalp as my eyes meet in the mirror, reflection almost obliterated by the harsh yellow glare of the bathroom lighting. Smooth glass entombs my image. Hours spent on Zoom staring at my blank face made me realize my bangs had grown too long, baby curls forming a choppy line, shielding lovely dark eyebrows from view. 

Scissors snipping, snapping…slicing…piecing my hair together in flat chunks, clipping back the snaking curls to preserve the shag I adored. The snipping of scissors is soothing, a chorus of clicks with hair falling to my toes, loose ends dotting around my eyelids as I blinked, determination burning back in my eyes. 

Smoothed hair, unshaped from pulling to make my cutting precise drove me in late night desperation to the shower. Warm water beading, steam swelling and filling the room, the coarse smoothness of a towel, and the sweet perfume of almond oil. Soft ringlets and waves cascaded down my shoulders, power and self-assurance filling me till I burst. Grey clouds were forced back by the beaming sun of my smile. Always too frizzy, too flat, the jungle of uncoordinated curls was tamed, and I was finally happy. 

Devon Drabick is a senior studying History in the College of Arts & Sciences. In her free time, she can be found outdoors, cuddling her cats, or with close friends.