This was my family’s usual salon. Our jackets were hung in the closet near the entrance after being greeted. Immediately, I was seated in a soft chair at the hair wash station. The employee scrubbed my head and cheerfully asked about which grade I was in and my plans for the future. I forced a laugh and told her I was in 8th grade with no clue who I wanted to be. It was the same answer I would give anyone who asked. She hummed in response and resumed her rigorous massage. I squinted at the bright ceiling lights and thought about how quick washing my hair would be after today. Awhile later, the shampoo was rinsed away and a towel was wrapped loosely around my head. I sat on the cramped bench with a handful of other customers awaiting my turn. The barber was chatting animatedly with my mother while styling her permed curls. Once she was finished, she stood and gestured towards me. I pushed myself off the seat walked uncertainly to the empty chair. “The usual trim?” he smiled …show more content…
The blades buzzed near my ears like a swarm of wasps. Like wasps, it was rather terrifying. “Are you sure you want this?” my mother asked. I knew she hoped I would say no. “I’ve been sure for a year,” I responded immediately. The barber chuckled knowingly and resumed his work. He slowly shaved the sides and the made his way to the back. I could hear the razor but I could not see it. My fist clenched and unclenched at my sides. There was no turning back now. It was exhilarating like a rollercoaster before the steepest drop. When he finally finished, he grabbed a small, hand-held mirror and raised it up to the back of my head. I quickly fumbled for my glasses and pushed them on my nose. “How is it?” I was at a loss of words. It was a completely unfamiliar person in the mirror, but it was perfect. All the doubts I had instantly vanished. My longer was never as smooth and silky as the other girls I new. The messy texture suited the pixie cut, however. It was nice to appreciate the person I saw in the