I cut my hair two weeks ago. Booked an appointment two days after the thought arose, and had a random stranger in a salon I’d never been to cut my hair two days later. Isn’t the first thought the best thought? And was it really worth waiting until the new year began to do something that I had always wanted to do but never dared to, if I felt ready now? I cut my hair, and it could have been the worst decision I had ever made. It could have confirmed everything people had ever told me to deter me from taking that step: that my face is too round, that my jawline is not sharp enough, or that I’d look like a boy. Maybe it did, and maybe I will regret cutting it in a few weeks when I realising how much I miss tying it, but the thing is, I needed the change now and I rarely feel this sense of urgency – so I cut it.
I guess I could take it as a sign that my intuition is waking up from its two-year deep slumber, and I try not to be resentful of how long it took it to manifest itself again – especially as I am unsure I did not in fact systematically and unconsciously push it down. Which leads to the question of why it is so goddamn difficult to listen to oneself, and of how I can be more mindful of it.
Why does a lack of self-trust and perpetual doubts seem to be such common occurrences in people my age? Is it even something that particularly plagues my generation – or is this just the simplistic narrative I’ve cultivated over years of looking at the adults around me as if they had everything figured out? I guess we will never know. In the meantime, I’ll look as everyone around me sets new intentions for the new year and I’ll enjoy the wave of optimism that arises when the days start getting longer – hope it rubs off on me and that the silly hopes I cultivate never leave me again.
I do not particularly care for new year’s resolutions. Every year, my social media is flooded with people aiming to eat healthier, work out more, and “turn their life around” as if anything is fundamentally wrong with them in the first place or as if you need January 1st to get the right protein and fibre intake, spend too much money on a gym membership, or adopt a more positive mindset.
To be clear, that people need collective encouragement and support is not an issue and perfectly understandable in my eyes – that I started to adhere to the belief that I could procrastinate feeling better and suffering less until the end of December, however, is, I suppose. And it’s perfectly fine, because this year was a lot, and it was weird above all, and I had things to deal with, and I am learning to prioritise myself and rest and all of that bullshit that you’d hope was just therapy speak but actually comes in pretty handy when you feel clueless. November wasn’t the time to overwhelm myself with complicated new habits and shame myself for not feeling like a functioning adult. I still took small steps in December – resolutions, if you will. And, on most days, I do feel better, even if slightly. I write more. I stopped crying so much. I cut my hair.
The transition from December 31st to January 1st is to me as inconsequential and as mundane as any given evening of the year, including the day leading up to my birthday, lest for the food I get to eat – which might be sushi and a small piece of lemon pie, this year. I will start the year with a nice meal in my stomach, watching movies I either already know I love or that I haven’t had the chance to watch yet, maybe do a collage or two, and go to bed as soon as I called my parents and texted my friends at midnight. No parties, no loud noises.
Today, I have been trying to figure out which films I’ll pick for this year’s final movie night. I thought I’d go with a Shrek marathon, or a string of Studio Ghibli movies, starting with My Neighbour Totoro. I could rewatch my favourite movies for a millionth time, but I’m not sure I will be able to find Wong Kar-Wai’s Chungking Express anywhere and I’ve seen Dead Poets Society a short while ago. I guess I could also improvise, and abandon the need to plan it – see what happens tomorrow and if I magically feel more inspired after a good night’s sleep. I might not even feel like movie night anymore, by then.
Maybe I’ll just try and finish reading Frankenstein, or write in that little notebook I received for my birthday. It doesn’t really matter, as long as my evening is peaceful – and most of the evenings and the days after that. Wouldn’t it be nice? A peaceful life, and days filled with the quiet confidence that I can start over whenever I feel like it. That waiting until December 31, 2026 serves no purpose when this sense of urgency tugs at my guts. When I know that the best decisions I’ve taken were all preceded by the fact I didn’t feel ready – and that I’ve trusted myself before, so why not now?
So, while do not particularly care for new year’s resolutions, I’ll keep in mind to write every day, buy more ceramic bowls, learn the Trivia 轉 : Seesaw lyrics, stop skipping breakfast, add garlic to more dishes, and hang that one poster.
And I promise to cut my hair immediately if I ever feel the need to, at any point in my life, from now on.
andstillwedream 