Singh 1

Meheak Singh
Ms. Gardner
English 10H/ Period 4
22 January 2015
The Endless River
Your hair is gorgeous! If I had hair like that, Id never want to cut it off! strangers often
gushed as my mother beamed proudly. I smiled timidly at the time and thanked them, not quite
understanding why everyone was so obsessed with the glossy strands lying atop an eight-yearolds head. Whenever I stared at myself in the mirror afterwards, I examined the thick mess of
knots and split ends framing my face, and I imagined they stood firm like tiny dams restricting
the flow of my silky hair. As I struggled to tame my mane every morning, I wondered again and
again how anyone could enjoy styling it every morning.
I grew up with long hair, most often found in two tight braids on the side of my head.
My parents always frowned upon short hair on me, and whenever I asked to cut it, they were
quick to answer with a firm No. Much like Samson in the Bible, in Indian culture we believe
that our hair gives us strength. Many people never cut any off at all, but my mother and I always
went in to get little trims.
I always needed my mom to style and help me wash it, making it difficult for me to
learn how to handle my thick river of hair. While I had learned to love everything about it, the
length, the color, and the locks cascading down my back, my hair still bothered me to no extent.
It constantly got stuck on things, and wearing it down was not an option, considering how many
lengthy hairs I shed. The hair loss was scary enough that I decided to research it. As a result, I
found between 50 and 150 individual hairs are shed from the scalp every day(Rogers). So

Singh 2
while I remember my brothers repulsive expressions as he continually found long strands of my
hair in random places in the house, I also remembered it was completely normal, and I was not
suffering from alopecia.
As I approached the sixth grade, I had hair down to my waist. At that point I adapted to
getting compliments and hearing all the oohs and the ahhs but I still struggled to handle my
hair. I regularly heard people comparing me to Rapunzel, and I always laughed it off because
Tangled, had always been my favorite Disney movie anyways.
When I found out that the sixth graders were all going to Camp Navarro for a week I
convinced my parents to finally let me cut my hair in an effort to manage it more efficiently and
become more independent. My friends got haircuts all the time, so for them it was no big deal.
But for me, cutting off twelve inches of my stream of hair was colossal. It was like cutting off a
limb (only I had the reassurance that my limb would eventually grow back).This reassurance was
what ultimately made me decide I wanted to cut my hair, because the experience forced me to
become more self-reliant, and even if I didnt like the the look, my soft bristles would always
grow out again.
I remember sitting on the rough tetherball tire, listening to my best friends Grace and
Emily talk about this wonderful organization that donates hair to people who could use it. Since I
decided to cut so much of my hair, I also decided to donate to Locks of Love. Its an organization
that provides hair for disadvantaged children suffering from long-term hair loss caused by
various illnesses. For me the decision was immediate. Hair has always been meaningful to me,
and the thought of losing it all horrifies me to no end. If I felt that way just thinking about losing
my hair, how could I let so much of it be cut off, knowing it could make someone else
overjoyous?

Singh 3
After the cut, my hair remained considerably long and pooled around my elbows. But as I
stood in Serenitys, the little salon where I got my haircut, holding my braid of hair for donation,
I couldnt have been happier. My mother smiled and thanked the hairstylist graciously, but in the
next week I noticed her stealing longing looks at my shorter tresses, wondering if it was the right
decision to cut it. I didnt mind it though, because I knew that somewhere out there, someone
was loving their new mass of strands just as much as I was loving mine. I learned to navigate and
love it even more than I had loved my hair before. These emotions became what helped me
reassure myself it was the right decision. When my relatives noticed the change and said, The
hair looked better longer, or when they said You should have kept it long. It didnt matter
anymore, because I was truly happy with my hair.
Recently, I got a haircut without anyone there to help me figure out how short to get it. Of
course, I wanted it shorter than I had gotten before. While my brother and I thought the look was
for the better, my grandma and mother tried -- and failed -- to mask the expression of distaste on
their faces. Ive learned to understand it though because I too miss my long hair sometimes. My
hair is so much more than its length. Now, as I evolve, so does my hair. Im constantly scrolling
through my phone, looking for new things to try on my hair. All the new colors, techniques, and
cuts fascinate me, and Ive been toying with the idea of getting balayage, a French technique of
highlighting hair in your natural color pallette, but I havent been brave enough to try anything
drastic. My dark, muddy brown locks are no longer a chore that I have to deal with in the
morning, but are instead a representation of myself and how I feel.
Works Cited
Rogers, Nicole. "Hair Myths and Facts: Ask the Hair Health Specialists on WebMD." WebMD.
WebMD, 16 Jan. 2012. Web. 24 Jan. 2016.